On a Rainy Night in Georgia

by Olivia Gaines

  “We have no IDs to back any of that up,” she said softly, eyeballing him, wanting to know what he was going to get out of the deal.

  “We will have all those things, but that’s why I need you to get that junk off your teeth so I can get a good photo. I have my shaving clippers, so I can tighten up your hair, but nothing fancy,” he said to her.

  “Marriage license, all of that stuff isn’t easy to come by plus a birth certificate for... Michelle,” she said, looking down at the child.

  “All of that is coming, along with a new driver’s license for you, a couple of credit cards, a new bank account, backdated, that kind of thing,” he told her.

  “This is weird. I mean, oh my goodddness, we are just going to pretend to be married?” She was frowning at him still concerned about what would make a healthy, red-blooded male want to marry a stray woman and take a child as his own.

  “No, tomorrow, we are getting married,” he said. “You know, to back up the lie, so the Sheriff, his minions or worse don’t come in and kill us.”

  “Huh?” She asked in total disbelief.

  “Tomorrow, my brother Gabriel—he is the middle child of the three of us, Isiah is the youngest— well, Gabe is an ordained minister. He will call in and marry us over Skype or something,” he told her. Digging in the bag, he pulled out the syringe and a pair of blue latex gloves. He donned the gloves and inserted the syringe into the green connector tube of the hoses going into the catheter. She watched the syringe fill up with a clear liquid almost magically.

  She wasn’t buying it and wanted to bolt for the door. She’d seen this movie once and even had a starring role, this time she would pass on shooting the next scene. Her words were slow to form as she asked, “You are okay to marry some woman you don’t even know?”

  “Why not? You were okay to marry some man you didn’t know,” he told her, pushing her back on the couch. He used his index finger to move her panties to the side. “Inhale for me.”

  She sucked in her breath as he moved the material, exposing her girl parts, but appearing to take no interest in what he was seeing in a sexual manner. The pressure caught her off guard as she inhaled as he pulled out the tubing, using his gloves to fold over the ends. “You can empty that yourself this time. I am off pee bag duty.”

  He frowned a bit while she watched him place the urine hopper in a scrap plastic bag. Zeke still whistled as he made his way to the bathroom, washed his hands, and moved to the kitchen. He took four eggs from the fridge, along with a pack of thick ham slices and started the coffee to perk.

  “After you burp her, you can get moving. Get dressed, get those linens in the wash, but I have to boil some hot water first,” he said, humming merrily.

  “Stop,” she told him, bounding to her feet. She made a step, looking down at her ankle, suddenly understanding she was free to move about with no restraint. Tameka drug her left leg from the soreness, happy to be free of the chain, but trying to quantify the new one placed about her by this man. This was all too much. Last week she was a prisoner, chained, butt naked, and today, she was a mother, in a warm cabin, with a man she’d didn’t know, who planned to marry her. He honestly expected her to go about the house doing chores as if she hadn’t just experienced the worst trauma of her life.

  “Stop what?” He asked, still humming, looking in the fridge for items to go into the eggs, and wishing he had a few oranges for a cup of freshly squeezed juice.

  “Stop this happy man shit. I want out of here. I want off this godforsaken mountain and I’m not going to marry you,” she said defiantly.

  Zeke remained calm. He cracked open the eggs, watching the yolks slide into the bowl. He added a bit of milk as he whipped the contents into one uniformed yellow coloring. The large skillet was taken from the wall as he put in a pat of butter, allowing it to melt. He didn’t look up when he spoke.

  “You will marry me and learn to look at me as if I were the first man to ever give you an orgasm. Not only that, Tameka, you will thank me daily for saving your goddamn life and risking mine in the process. These are crazy people and bad men who abduct women like you every single day they get bored and desire a bit of entertainment. They will take my service weapon, shove it in my mouth, and make me eat a bullet and then burn down this cabin with you in it if they don’t take you and sell you like originally intended. So yes, you are going to marry me and we both are going to love every single moment of this time together in this cabin. Do you understand me?” he said, looking up at her with an intensity in his eyes.

  “Well, it seems I don’t have a choice,” she told him, her chin lifted defiantly.

  “You forfeited your choice when you didn’t listen to your friends and family who told you that coming here was a bad idea. The choice for a happily ever after was changed the moment you climbed into that truck with Jimmy Don instead of waiting in the airport for whichever redneck you planned to marry,” he said through clenched teeth. “You took away my ability to choose when you said that final prayer asking for your life and the life of this child to be spared. I was sent to help. I am doing my part, now do yours, be a good wife, put the baby down, and go wash your ass!”

  She placed Michelle on her shoulder, softly patting the baby’s back. Her eyes squinted as she looked at Zeke pouring the eggs into the skillet. The rumbling of her tummy forced her to get moving. It took several tries, but she managed to get going. The soreness from the run, giving birth and lying immobile on a couch for nearly four days produced an ache like she’d never experienced.

  “I don’t think I like you,” she said to Zeke.

  “Too damned bad,” he said, scrambling the eggs. “That is just no way to start a marriage based on love and the foundations of trust, Tameka!”

  The muscles in her face which had been trying to move, jumped and a smile accidentally formed at the corners of her mouth. He was funny in an odd way. She also trusted him.

  She would soon find out that trusting him was also the doorway to learning to love the man as well.

  HE FORCED HER TO HOLD the child. He forced her to get up and clean herself up, starting with her teeth. She held onto the bathroom sink as she looked in the mirror. A thin, gaunt face stared back at her with dark circles around her eyes. In the suitcase she’d lugged with her, she found concealer, eyes shadows and makeup in several different shades. A few wigs were in there as well, but she was never one to cover up her head in a hat let alone a wig.

  Locating the peroxide, she gargled several times, swishing the solution in her mouth, then spitting. Placing a strip of paste on the toothbrush, she set about scrubbing her teeth. The first spitting filled the sink with red tinted paste, mixed with her saliva.

  “That’s not good,” she said, eyeing the bleeding gums. She scrubbed some more, rinsing and looking again. The teeth were no longer black but a nice hue of green as if she spent every day drinking black coffee laced with green tea leaves. The dental tools in the bag she carefully used to scrape away the dental calculus, which made the gums bleed more. She worked on the front teeth, and later she would come back and work on the ones in the rear.

  “Honey, breakfast is getting cold,” Zeke called out.

  “Start without me, darling,” she said back through bleeding gums. She used the same honey dripping tone with him as he used with her in the faux affection.

  “What fun would that be, Snook’ums?” he yelled back.

  Tameka snatched open the bathroom door, standing in the entryway and staring at him with utter contempt. It was bad enough he named her Tameka, but Snook’ums is where she drew the line.

  “You planning to put on some clothes, Honey?” he asked, looking at her bare-naked form.

  She looked down, not realizing she was buck ass nude. After spending so many months in that state, clothing was one of the last things on her mind.

  “Oh hell,” she said, closing the door.

  Zeke, unable to contain himself, walked over to the bathroom door. He leaned against the jamb, e
njoying her moment of discomfort.

  “Babycakes,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “You do realize the night we met, you showed up on my doorstep butt damned naked, so your modesty is appreciated, but not necessary. I have seen all of that before.”

  Nearly a year she’d spent chained up like an animal in a rotting piece of a shack, nude, drugged, violated against her conscious knowledge and now, of all times, she wanted to be bashful. Ignoring his request, she started the shower. Standing under the slow stream of warm water, she reveled in the feel of the water cascading down her body. Tears welled in her eyes as she wrapped her thin arms around her body, trying to get a grip on a new reality. Trapped again with a man she didn’t know, being at his mercy. I survived Jimmy Don. I can survive this guy. Go along. Get along. Get free. Your life is not forfeit. See what he wants, understand his terms, negotiate a safe release. She turned off the taps, drying herself briskly with a towel that felt like a dry loofah, then running it over her low-cut hair. Find out what his play is and make him an offer for your freedom.

  Slipping on a fresh pair of undies, a tee shirt, and a loosely fitted pair of jeans, the material felt scratchy against her skin. She removed the jeans and opted instead for a soft cotton dress and a sweater. Vanity, or what little she had left, made her brush the wayward strands of cowlicked hair and put on a bit of lipstick. The concealer was used under her eyes to soften the harsh dark circles, and when she stepped out of the small bathroom, Zeke gave a low wolf whistle.

  “Hot damn! My wife is a fox!” he said. “Woman, if you weren’t my fake wife, I would feel like I was cheating with you.”

  Her face was doing that weird thing again by jerking and forming a hesitant smile. He was doing his best to put her at ease, but she was a long way away from that sentiment. Trust was one thing, but being comfortable with him was another.

  “Something is wrong with you,” she told Zeke.

  “Yes, I think it may be the two of you lovely ladies are addling my brain,” he told her. Before she could react, he moved beside her and planted the faintest kiss on her temple. Her fingers touched the spot as if a memory was coming back from the darkness.

  He’d kissed me there before when he carried me to the couch.

  “Come on, I’m starving. We need to eat before she wakes up for another feeding. Next week, I may add a tad bit of cereal to the formula to fatten her up if that’s okay with you,” he said, doling out the eggs, applesauce and a small portion of ham to her.

  “Don’t matter,” she said, looking at the plate. It was a nice presentation for the small meal. Jimmy Don fed her out of a dog bowl or a greasy bag of whatever he picked up on the way.

  “It matters, Tameka. She didn’t ask to be here, so it’s not her fault. You can either raise her in love or raise her in the bitterness of your ordeal. I don’t blame you, but I can’t allow you to blame this little angel,” he said.

  She slammed her hand on the table, startling the baby, who let out a whelp. “And what do you know of my ordeal?”

  “Any time a woman is held against her will is an ordeal. Surviving, living through whatever hell you went through, was last week. This is a new week and I have to pull you into the now. You can get therapy when we get off this mountain, but I need you here in this moment,” Zeke said, touching her hand.

  Tameka didn’t pull away.

  “I will make a concerted effort,” she said as her eyes began to sting.

  “I know, Cuddlekins,” he said, eliciting a snarky scowl from her. “I’m trying to find the best pet name, and it may be tough. I like Snook’ums.”

  “Nope,” she said flatly.

  “Honey, Babycakes, Pookiebutt?”

  “Stop it,” she said.

  “But Baby,” he said, laughing a bit.

  “Just great! I escape one crazy man to be stuck with another,” she said.

  “Yeah, but there is a difference,” he said waggling his brows. “I’m your husband, well I will be come tomorrow, and I am going to love, honor, and cherish you for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

  “It’s that last part which worries me,” Tameka said, blessing the food and eating the eggs. She’d never tasted anything so absolutely divine as this single meager meal of a hot plate of eggs and a piece of ham and cup of fresh hot coffee. Her heart was filled with gratitude for this man who placed so much on the line for her and the baby. She could play along, to get along, to get off this mountain. She was a survivor. Each day she plotted how to get through that day and on to the next. My life is not forfeit. If marrying him meant she would be one step closer to freedom for the sake of a good cover, then marrying him would be the answer.

  The ‘for worse’ part of the marriage vows she knew. It was the ‘for better’ portion which gave her hope. Hope was all she had to go on since she would spend the better part of three weeks locked in a cabin with a man she barely knew, but as far as she could tell, he was kind, somewhat funny, and he loved her daughter. The darkness still hovered around her and was not going away anytime soon, but she would take it one day at a time.

  Time was also what she needed. He understood this as breakfast ended and the day began. She washed the few dishes and looked about the cabin, suddenly wanting to decorate it to make it homier for the three of them. Shit, I want to nest? He said there was a garage. I wonder what is in it?

  The rain was still coming down, not in buckets as it had before, but a steady stream of it on the metal rooftop created a symphony of unbridled music that made her feel calmer than she would have anticipated. He, too, made her feel calm. He moved carefully about the house and around her with no sudden movements. Towards the middle of the day, Zeke put Michelle down for a nap and didn’t return from the bedroom. Curiosity made her peer around the corner into the room where he’d left the door open. He sat in the chair in the corner, reading by the lamp which rested on a small three-legged table.

  Zeke knew she was standing there. He didn’t look up as he spoke to her. “I’m just giving you some space to move about freely without me standing over you and keeping watch,” he said, turning the page.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “Freedom is an odd thing,” he said. “We often take it for granted.”

  The past eleven months had taught her a great many things. Her life, the choices she’d made, and those around her, she’d often taken a great deal of it for granted. She would never make that same mistake again.

  “I’ve spent enough time alone with my thoughts Zeke,” she said softly. “I would welcome the opportunity to have a conversation and the company of my...new husband.”

  Day Seven – The Wedding Party

  THE COUCH WAS LUMPY, old, and dusty. Everything in the cabin needed a good cleaning and a refreshing. It was past the point of spraying a fabric refresher. In her estimation, most of the furniture needed to be reupholstered if not stripped down and used for firewood. This morning, she made the coffee, not as strong as Zeke had made it, but palatable. She scrambled some eggs, sizzled a few sausage links, and made some toast. It was her intention to take a hot shower, but when she started the shower head, all the water was cold.

  “Morning,” she heard him say as he came into the kitchen, carrying Michelle. The bottle was ready for Michelle’s morning consumption. Tameka made him a plate and set it on the table. “Thank you, Honey.”

  “You’re welcome...Sweetheart,” she said, walking back to the bathroom. “Hey Zeke, I wanted to take a shower, but this water is cold.”

  “We have to add water to the hot water tank, then give it chance to heat up,” he told her. “My Mom had it installed but we were used to coming in hot and sweaty, so a cold shower didn’t faze us much.”

  “Will you show me how to work it?”

  “Sure, right after breakfast. I hope you plan to join us,” he said, trying not to stare at her. She was by all accounts, a very attractive woman once the grime was cleared away. The weight loss was obvious wit
h the thin arms and legs, but he expected her to put on a few pounds in the next few weeks. She still wore the same dress she had on yesterday.

  “I guess,” she said, moving hesitantly, holding her cup of coffee.

  “Are the other clothing pieces in the bag not to your liking?”

  She shrugged, making eye contact with him, holding his stare in a way which almost made him gulp. Jimmy Don didn’t break her. The fire in her eyes told him as much and she was a fighter. The details of her ordeal he truly wanted to know, but he would give her time.

  “I have to get used to wearing clothes again,” she said, lowering her eyes. “My skin is dry, and the jeans are a bit harsh. There was only one dress in there and some tee shirts, but I can’t walk around in a tee shirt and undies all day.”

  “You can if you want,” he told her.

  “Are you gay?”

  Zeke sputtered, spitting some of the coffee on Michelle’s blanket. Her little eyes came open at the sudden movement, but her little lips never relinquished the nipple on the bottle.

  “Hell no! Why would you ask me that?”

  “Because at the end of the day you are a man. I don’t care if you rescued me or not. Being locked up in a cabin with a half-naked woman is going to affect you and I’m not going to be anyone’s victim ever again,” she said, her eyes challenging him.

  “You are safe with me. I would never force myself upon you in any situation,” he told her. “I have more self-control than that, but I understand your point. Why tempt the lion with a piece of meat if you are not going to feed it?”

  “Do I have to feed the lion?”

  He moved Michelle to his shoulder to pat her back, hoping for a solid burp. Gentle taps went to her small back as Zeke’s attention was focused on the mother. It was a good question, one he didn’t truly know how to answer.