Zeke

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Zeke Page 14

by Wodke Hawkinson


  “Okay,” Zeke finally said. “I’m gonna tell you something and it’s the god’s honest truth. Maybe you used to be a dog, I don’t know. But you’re not now. It’s like the ugly duckling story. Somewhere along the way, you turned into a swan, and you didn’t even realize it. Maybe you’ll never be Miss America, but you’re one sexy chick; you’re hot. You can drop that old poor ugly me routine now. Those days were over a long time ago.”

  Sue looked up at him doubtfully.

  “Hey, I’m telling you the truth here,” he said earnestly. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Susie.” He took her hands in his and kissed the back of her fingers, just like a gallant gentleman would a lady dressed in quality finery. Then he pulled out his laptop and powered up. “I want you to see these pictures I took when you were doing Ernie.”

  “Oh god! No, I don’t want to see them.” Sue looked away.

  “Yes, you do. Honey, you look so good in these photos.” He turned her head gently and she looked at the screen. Graphic pictures of her with her knees wide. Her with Ernie’s head between her legs. Her with the tubby truck driver buried deep inside her. She grew warm with embarrassment and something else. A bizarre kind of arousal.

  “See?” Zeke said. “Look at you. You look good. Oh, bunny, you can clearly see you are not ugly. You’re a hot sensuous woman. Nothing to be ashamed of at all. So forget all those ignorant words from your past.”

  Sue said nothing.

  “And forget Mean Eugene, you watched him give some dude a BJ, remember?” Zeke joked. “He’s nothing now.”

  Sue smiled weakly at Zeke’s attempt to cheer her up. “But I feel stupid in a dress.” She closed her eyes but the images of her in Ernie’s truck stayed there on the back of her eyelids.

  “That’s all the more reason to get you into some skirts,” he said firmly. “We have to undo that earlier programming. The best way to do it is to just jump right in.”

  “But it’s winter; my legs will get cold,” she said in a small voice.

  “No, they won’t,” Zeke countered. “We’ll get you some long socks to keep them warm.”

  “But why, Zeke? What difference does it make what I wear?”

  Zeke put a hand on her shoulder. “The truth? I want easier access to you, honey. It’s a pain getting you out of those tight jeans every time I want to touch you. I’m telling you, the way to go is long skirts and no underwear. You want me to be able to love you up, don’t you?”

  “Of course.” A warm thrill washed over her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad wearing a skirt. It would be nice not to have to mess with tight jeans before making love. The idea was growing on her.

  “Trust me, it’s for the best,” Zeke said, opening the door of the van. “Now, come on inside with me and we’ll pick out some nice clothes for you.”

  Sue meekly followed him.

  “You need to realize that I have your best interests in mind,” he informed her over his shoulder. “Once you accept that, it’ll make things easier on us both.”

  Sue stopped for a minute, trying to grasp the notion, finding it wrong somehow, but unable to think why. Zeke stopped too and walked back to where she was standing. He took her hand and led her inside where he chose several long skirts and a bundle of knee socks. Looking her over with his chin in his hand, Zeke moved to another rack and ran his fingers over the garments. Finally, he pulled something off a hanger and handed it to Sue. It was a shiny peach-colored, mid-length coat with a hood. Although not overly thick, Sue knew it would be much warmer than her jacket. She felt an inner glow at his thoughtful gesture. It proved Zeke cared enough about her to consider her comfort.

  They stood at the register, Zeke looking at Sue expectantly.

  “Oh!” She opened her purse and paid from her dwindling cash supply. It looked like she would be wearing skirts from now on. She assured herself she’d look very Bohemian and cutting-edge, and tried to ignore her discomfiture. Zeke thinks I’m beautiful, and that’s all that matters.

  “Let’s stop and pick up some beer and sodas on the way out of town,” Zeke suggested. “I told you we’d be just like gypsies; we’ll have everything we need with us. Isn’t that right, Sue?”

  Sue smiled in agreement.

  Big Wet Stain

  “I’m taking off from here,” Falstaff told Roxie as he updated her by phone from the convenience store parking lot. “I’ll be going southwest on Highway 46. Melvin’s on his way back to the office. Give me a call if you find anything interesting.”

  “What about your clothes and things?” she asked.

  “Packed them last night and stuck them in the trunk.”

  “Smart thinking,” she complimented him. “I’ll look for anything of interest that lies along your path, and I’ll get Melvin on the abandoned building angle. Of course, that could have been just another lie. I’ll let you know what we come up with.”

  Will hung up and settled in for what might prove to be a long drive. He didn’t think the couple would have stopped too often at the beginning of the trip. Just a gut feeling. But they would have to get gas and food sometime. Around one o’clock, he stopped for lunch in Clear Lake, a small town with only one restaurant. The waitress didn’t recognize the picture of Sue, and Will requested his meal to go.

  He started paying attention to any place with a gas pump once he got down to half a tank. He lost valuable time interviewing employees of convenience stores and service stations, frustrating but unavoidable. No one recalled seeing the couple.

  His phone rang and he pulled over on a narrow shoulder to take the call. Roxie had come across two reports of interest, both break-ins. One at a tire store and one at a residence. The residential one triggered his suspicions. He made notes and pulled back onto the road. At the next junction, he took the exit to Calcus, New Hampshire. There he spoke to the manager of Ray’s Tires & Tubes who had reported the theft. The tire store turned out to be a waste of effort. The fence had been cut, four wide tires stolen, and graffiti smeared all over the side of the building. No one saw anything, and the tires would never fit a van. He spent very little time there.

  His next stop was at a convenience store, where once again, the clerk didn’t recognize Sue’s picture or Zeke by description.

  The home burglary from his list felt more plausible, so he continued south to Assaria, planning to interview a woman named Doris Bernard about the break-in at her home. Along the way, he stopped at almost every diner and gas station, but learned nothing.

  Later that afternoon, Will pulled into Assaria and stopped at a small park to update Roxie. She had more info on the home break-in. “It seems Zeke pulled some of the oldest tricks in the book to take advantage of a lonely woman,” Roxie said and explained what happened. She gave Will the phone number for the dollar store, and then reported on Melvin’s progress. “He’s come up with some locations of abandoned buildings strung out along your general route. Some of them may be promising.”

  Will thanked her and jotted down some notes before calling Doris. She agreed to meet him outside her workplace, and he arrived at the curb just in time to see her poke her head out the door, looking for him. Signaling her, he popped the lock on the passenger door and Doris got in, eager to talk about her experience. These types never learn.

  “I’ve never felt such a sense of violation,” she told Will. She described the choking incident in the store and the subsequent phone call in which she had foolishly given the burglars her address. Will shook his head sympathetically as he wrote.

  “I was used.” She bemoaned her ill treatment. “But I believe in my heart of hearts, it was that girl behind the whole thing.”

  Will blinked, surprised at this statement. “Why do you think that, Miss Bernard?”

  “Well, you’d just have to meet Luther to understand,” she went on. “He was so charming! He just wasn’t the criminal type. He was really very sweet. I think his sister was the evil one, like Eve causing trouble for Adam, talking him into bad things.”

  “I s
ee,” Will said, his tone encouraging. “Tell me about the break-in.”

  “Well, they took eight hundred-forty dollars I was saving for a new sofa; but they left all my credit cards. Probably knew they’d get caught using them. And, I found an empty hair dye box in my bathroom. It came from our store. That girl had to have stolen it while her poor brother was choking to death!” Doris was irate. “She acted all worried when she came to the front of the store after stealing us blind; but I could see right through her. She was trouble, with capital letters.”

  “Okay,” Will prompted. “What else?”

  “The police said they used some kind of huntin’ knife to pry open the back door. And then, they ate lunch, calm as you please, right at my kitchen table. They didn’t even clean up after themselves.” She listed their crimes, which included taking her food, stealing her blankets, using her shower, and leaving drops of black hair dye on her bathroom floor, splattered on her sink, and all over her robe. “I’ll never get those stains out of my bathroom, you know. They’re permanent. And my best housecoat is ruined, too.” Doris scowled, her cheeks puffed out like a hamster hoarding treats. She rearranged herself in the seat, pulling her large purse close to her bosom. “Some of those quilts they took are irreplaceable. They belonged to my mother before she passed the house on to me. The insurance money won’t begin to cover the emotional damage I suffered, either.” She shook her head, jowls wiggling like pudding. She almost decided to omit the prescription medicine stolen from her bathroom, thinking her nervous problems were no one’s business; then she had second thoughts. “That girl must be into drugs, too.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, I really don’t want to go into details, but I’ve had some trouble sleeping and some anxiety problems. It’s not easy being a single woman on her own in this town. I went through a rough spot.” She blushed and hurried to add, “It was a while back, but the prescriptions were still in the medicine cabinet. That girl took them all.”

  “Can you tell me what type of drugs she took?” Will figured the drugs were Zeke’s idea, not Sue’s.

  Doris blurted out the names and Will noted them with a ripple of alarm.

  “This has all been terrible for you; it’s a loss for sure.” Will wondered if he should pat her on the arm or something.

  “It’s more than just a loss; it’s a violation! I won’t feel completely safe in my own home ever again. My peace of mind was stolen from me, right along with my possessions.” Doris wiped a tear away. Then she lowered her voice. “I didn’t tell the police this part, but they had sex on my bed. Can you imagine? A brother and sister! Sex!”

  “They didn’t!” Will rearranged his facial expression to reflect an appropriate level of outrage.

  “They did! The bedspread was all messed up and they left a big wet stain.” Her face turned red. “It even had a little blood in it. That dirty girl was probably having her time of the month and convinced Luther to take her anyway.” Doris would never tell anyone the pair had used her vibrator. That was one secret she would take to her grave.

  Will felt a surge of worry when Doris mentioned blood. At least it was just a small amount. Maybe Doris was right and it was menstrual. He would leave that detail out of his report to Sue’s parents that night and focus on the positive. She was still alive, anyway. That was something. That was the biggest something of all to a parent.

  “Did you happen to see their vehicle?” Will asked hopefully.

  “No, I think they were on foot,” she replied.

  “Well, thank you, Miss. Bernard. You’ve been very helpful. And, just to set your mind at ease a little, I need to tell you they lied about being brother and sister.”

  “Lied?” She blinked several times.

  Will nodded.

  “Well, not him,” she protested. “It was her that said it. I’m telling you, she’s leading him down Hell’s highway. Don’t you forget it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Will was amazed that Doris would still defend the man purporting himself to be Zeke Kyle, even after everything that had happened. Life can be imbalanced, like a top-heavy cart, he thought philosophically. How do these guys get that kind of power over women, and the nice guys like me have to work so hard just to get a second glance?

  Once Doris got out of the car, Falstaff drove to the convenience store up the street. He took out one of the copies of Sue’s photographs and colored her hair with a pen until it was black as night. Then he trudged inside.

  The clerk didn’t recognize Sue. Will sighed as he went back out and pulled around to the gas pumps. He struggled internally with the notion of going to the authorities. Now that Sue could be tied to a crime, Will could enlist the help of law enforcement. But, it would mean a possible criminal record for his clients’ daughter. He didn’t want that, not if it could be avoided. He struggled with his ethics on more than one account. He had allowed Doris to believe he would pursue the couple for purposes of prosecution. When she jumped to this erroneous conclusion, he hadn’t bothered to correct her. “Damn conscience,” he muttered to himself. “But at least I know I’m on the right road.”

  After checking all other gas stations near the highway in Assaria, talking to numerous shop owners, and making several calls to Roxie, Falstaff realized it was getting late. He’d hit the highway early the next morning and keep heading south, unless something happened to change his course. There were also a couple of abandoned properties on his route, but it would be the sheerest of luck if he caught up to them at one of these places. Right time, right place sort of thing. They could have veered off this road anywhere, gone any direction.

  He didn’t see any way out of it; he would have to get a room and resume his search the next morning. He was suddenly very tired and looked forward to falling into bed. What he didn’t look forward to was the call he had to make to his clients.

  Incommunicado

  Hours later, just on the other side of Abbeville, West Virginia, Sue got up from her seat and crawled into the back. She started rummaging through the sacks of food and trash and piles of dirty clothes in the rear.

  “What are you doing?” Zeke strained to see her in the rearview mirror.

  “Looking for my phone. I want to call my parents.”

  “Absolutely not,” Zeke said.

  “But, I just want to let them know I’m okay.” A whine crept into her voice.

  Zeke raced the accelerator and then pulled over onto the shoulder, hitting the brakes hard. Sue flew forward into the back of the front seat. Zeke slammed the gearshift into park, and crawled back to her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly before tossing her down on the mattress.

  “We can’t call anyone,” he said angrily. “We’re criminals. Don’t you understand? They’ll trace us on GPS or some shit and we’ll go to jail. We left our fingerprints all over Doris’s house.”

  Sue began to cry. “I miss my folks. I know they’re worried about me. I just wanted to hear my mom’s voice, let her know I’m alive.”

  “Oh, baby.” He pulled her into his arms and patted her comfortingly. “I know. I know. But you just can’t. You can see that, can’t you?”

  She cried softly against his shoulder.

  “Anyway, I threw away your phone miles ago. It was too dangerous to hang onto.” He chuckled. “I’m just looking out for you, Sue. You’re so naïve, I have to do your thinking for you sometimes.”

  A cold chill slid down inside her and settled in the pit of her stomach. She froze. Now, she had no phone, no way to call for help if she needed it. The thought had come unbidden to her mind and left her wondering who she had to be frightened of. Zeke? She couldn’t believe that and pushed the idea away.

  “I don’t know why you’d want to call your parents anyway, knowing the way they really feel about you. They’re the last people on Earth you should want to talk to,” he said. “After all the shit they put you through, I don’t want to give them another go at it.”

  “They weren�
�t bad parents,” Sue said defensively.

  “Now that’s just not true, and you know it,” Zeke protested softly. “Your dad had inappropriate feelings for you, and your mom thought you were ugly. Plus, she let Eugene pick on you, didn’t step in to protect you. Maybe they didn’t abuse you or anything, but they weren’t looking out for you. They didn’t care about you, didn’t want you, never had time for you. How painful is that? I resent what they did to you, bunny. Look at all the deprogramming we’ve had to do. The fact is, you’re my girl. I don’t want anybody mistreating my girl. It makes me sick.”

  Sue cried in his arms. “I don’t believe those things. My parents do care about me. It hurts me when you say those things.”

  “The truth usually does hurt, bunny. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you’ll be free of the pain. I’m just trying to help you.” He cuddled her close. “It’s okay, let it all out. I’m here for you.”

  Sue’s mind clouded with his words. Words she didn’t want to believe, but that did hold some weight.

  “Come on, now,” Zeke said. “Come up front with me and we’ll find something to listen to on the radio. A spooky show comes on late at night where people call in and talk about aliens and ghosts. Grab a couple of beers out of the cooler and we’ll listen to the fruit loops.”

  He went back up front and Sue crawled up behind him and settled back into the passenger seat. She dried her tears, dug beers from the ice chest, and tried to figure out what she should do. It was so confusing. “Can’t we stay in a motel?” she asked. “I’m just tired of always being in this van. I’m tired of canned food; I want a pizza or a cheeseburger. I want a real room where I can soak in a hot bath and watch TV.”

  “You have to have a credit card to get a room, doofus,” Zeke answered lightly. “This is the best we can do for now. I got some ideas lined up, though. Don’t weasel out on me now. It’s gonna get better. I promise.”

  Mollified, Sue nodded. She admitted to herself that she was possibly being too hard on Zeke. Under the circumstances, he was looking out for her pretty well.

 

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