by TJ Vargo
She slipped a cigarette to him without answering, her eyes moving over him.
He put the end of the cigarette into the flame of her lighter, drawing his lungs full of smoke. Her eyes stared around the flame at him. She waited until he had withdrawn a step, saying "thanks" before she snapped her lighter closed..
"You're a big one, aren't you?" she said, reaching out to his shoulder, then sliding her hand to his bicep, which she squeezed. He recognized her husky voice. She was the woman he'd heard when he was listening outside the church. She lifted on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, her breath warm.
"I know it's her night, but you can warm up with me if you'd like."
Her hand was on his wrist, pulling him with her as she moved through the crowd. Did he hear her right? What was she talking about?
Her grip pumped on his wrist a couple times as she turned to him, pulling him through the crowd. Those big cat's eyes narrowed as she said, "I need to visit the powder room. You can help me find it, can't you?"
He followed her dumbly, his feet moving mechanically while his mind raced. The reason the townsmen were so excited was coming clear. His heart pushed up in his throat as a flash of memory from earlier today broke into his thoughts. That man Fletcher saying he would, "break her in," right before Nathaniel dragged him to meet those things that came out of the forest. It became clear. The "her" old Fletcher wanted to “break in” was Felicia. And breaking her in had everything to do with that musky animal smell coming off Frida's husband Tom. Felicia was about to be raped by one or more of these men tonight. Maybe all of them. Worse, Jackson felt that she knew this was going to happen and yet she didn't take him up on his offer to leave. Why?
The attractive older woman holding his hand looked back at him when she opened a service door that went into the kitchen, let go of his wrist and trailed a finger down to the top of his jeans, tugging him toward her.
"Why so gloomy? You're a young one. You'll have enough for me before the main event."
In spite of his disgust, Jackson was becoming excited. He dropped his cigarette and grabbed her hand, lifting it from inside his pants where her fingers played beneath his navel. She took a step back and put her hand on her hip.
"What's wrong, you a faggot?"
It wasn't his voice that came out. It was the voice of a much more dangerous man.
"Lady, you’d best get away from me before..."
He never got to finish. From nowhere, the large white fingers of Frida Commons reached in and wrapped around the woman's upper arm. She hulked over the woman.
"Leave him alone Hester. He's not for you."
With a shove from Frida, Hester's high heels clicked in rapid succession out into the crowd. She stopped and managed one angry look at Frida, then turned and melted quickly into the crowd when Frida took a step toward her.
Settling her eyes on Jackson, Frida grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen.
Jackson let himself be led by Frida. He was still trying to catch his breath, the adrenaline of his anger coursing through him. Frida's huge round backside moved in front of him with urgent purpose, pulling him through the kitchen, past a pot smelling of boiled shrimp, into the great room that bordered the courtyard, then into a bathroom tucked far back in the shadows of the great room. It was a large bathroom, with a bidet, toilet and a double bowl sink. Once inside, Frida reached behind Jackson to lock the door. She took both his hands and held them in front of her. Her face, fleshy as it was, was pulled tight, a solid rock of determination.
"I don't like what's going on one bit. That's the first thing I want you to know. The second is...," she bit her lip, then said, "I'm going to help you."
She looked over Jackson's shoulder at the door as if someone were about to knock, then, satisfied it wasn't going to happen she tightened her grip on Jackson's hands. Big as he was and strong as he was, Jackson felt the power of her grip. Frida's large frame wasn't all fat, that was for sure.
"Jackson you don't know me, and I don't know you, but I can tell you're not right with what your father does around here." She jutted her lower jaw out in a sign of resolve, giving a bulldog grimace and shaking her head as she added, "I'm not right with it either. Haven't been for all the years I've been here. But when I looked into your eyes the other night when you took me home, when I looked and saw the good in you, I knew I was going to help you, that's God's truth."
"They're going to rape Felicia, aren't they?" he asked, trying hard to keep his voice level.
Her eyes never wavered, staring straight ahead from deep in the pockets of flesh on her face as she answered, "That's the plan, but that's not the way it's going to happen if I have anything to do with it."
"Why? Why are they going to do it? None of this makes any sense to me."
Frida's hand flew to Jackson's mouth, shushing him. He took a deep breath, letting her talk.
"Keep it down. They'll hear you and believe me, your father will bring things down on me that are much worse than any nightmare you can conjure." She drew up close to his face, whispering. "You keep it down and keep your head level and I can get you and that poor girl out of here the same way I done your momma. All I need you to do is play my game. You think you can do that?"
Jackson nodded.
"Good," she said, letting go of his hands. Taking a step back, she sized him up, took another look over his shoulder at the door, and said, "I can explain it all to you later, if you want to hear it. It spins a pretty good tale, but it ain't for the closed minded." She wrung her hands, two pink dough balls of flesh kneading into one another. "But I don't have the time to go over it with you now. I can only tell you that I'm not going to let my Tom do...," her face flushed, then she touched at the back of her neck lightly underneath the tight bun of her hair and looked down, before saying, "He's just not going to do it, that’s all. Drag me down to hell, but I'm not letting him do it while I watch."
Jackson couldn't help himself. She seemed so lost and pitiful. He reached out and took hold of her hand.
"You tell me what to do and I'll do it. Whatever it is."
She smiled and it made him feel good in spite of the situation. He nodded his head as she began, making sure he heard every word.
"For all you've given her, tonight she gives back to you."
From the top of the steps at the back of the courtyard Jackson watched Nathaniel introduce Felicia. His vantage point gave him a full view of the proceedings. It was a helpless feeling, seeing Felicia walk out of the castle into the courtyard, the hands of overeager townsmen getting a quick feel, her face drawn, eyes wide with fear. The sheer black dress she wore covered her from ankle to wrist. Even in the dim light of the Japanese lanterns, Jackson could see through the thin cover of her dress to where the hands were groping her. He willed himself to stay put, breathing a sigh of relief when Nathaniel pulled Felicia to his side, shielding her from the press of men.
Nathaniel's voice boomed over the crowd, but his eyes searched until they fixed on Jackson.
"Everyone will get their turn. Be patient and she'll be ready and waiting when it's your turn. Every man and any woman that wants will get their turn."
Showing no emotion, Jackson stared back. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of his neck. He scratched at it. Damn near impossible to stand still. His muscles were jumping out of his skin, willing him to go down there and get Felicia away from this hell. But that couldn't happen. There was a better way.
He watched as Nathaniel whispered in Felicia's ear, smiling as she gazed over the top of the men pressing around her. Jackson's heart pumped, her eyes flitting over the rounded balding heads of the middle-aged men, finally finding him. Nathaniel watched in great amusement. It took all Jackson's self control to keep from rushing down there to her side. And, because he didn't do that, because he just stood there staring dumbly, he could feel her disappointment as her gaze held on him and then fell away to the ground. The sigh from her lips was nearly audible.
"Let's get the show on the road," yell
ed Nathaniel, his eyes flashing with satisfaction at Jackson's look of hopelessness. The townsmen roared their approval in the single voice of a huge predator.
Guiding Felicia inside the French doors, holding her elbow gingerly, Nathaniel turned to the crowd of men. All the women watched from farther back, standing in the shadows of the courtyard as if to separate themselves from what it was their men and a few of the women were about to do. Nathaniel held Felicia's hand over her head and slowly turned her around in a pirouette. When her back was to the crowd, his free hand tore part of her dress away, showing the black garters and g-string she wore. The sound of his sharp slap on her rump rang through the air. Jackson could see the red mark appear on her exposed buttocks.
"Who drew first ride? C'mon now - who's the man with the hand that will slip first into the velvet glove?" said Nathaniel in the insane patter of a carnival barker selling tickets to a freak show.
Seeing Tom Commons push his way to the front of the backslapping crowd, Jackson knew it was time. He began to walk up the steps that led out of the courtyard to the pasture, making a show of shaking his head and clenching his fists. If Nathaniel was watching his exit, Jackson wanted him to see that it was disgust that made him walk away. Once he was in the pasture and out of sight he began to run toward the stables. He was going to have to move fast. Not a lot of time before the next man's turn with Felicia started. He had to get the horses and bring them around the front. Frida would take care of the rest.
He ran to the stables and saddled himself onto one horse while holding the tether of another. He heeled his horse's sides, urging it slowly out of the stables to make sure he kept the other horse in tow.
Shadows at the edge of the forest covered him and his horses as he moved toward the front of the castle. To his front a dim cast of light reached from the courtyard to the forest. There was no way around it. He stopped his horse for a moment. They'd only be visible for a moment or two. There was no time to worry about it now. Laying himself down on his horse's neck to break his silhouette, he gently spurred his horse into the light. Just as he was full in the light, a loud roar in the courtyard startled both horses. He was barely able to keep hold of the tether of the horse behind him. It went taut as a line of corded steel. Another moment and he knew he'd either have to let go or he'd be pulled from his horse. Making a split second decision, he rose up in his saddle, completely in view of anyone who cared to look up from the courtyard below, and planted his heels firmly in the haunches of the horse he rode. Both horses were going to be needed to escape. If the horse behind him got away, Frida's plan would fail.
The tether cut into his palm, stretched his arm and shot pain through his elbow and shoulder. He gritted his teeth, biting back the urge to yell. With super human effort he pulled the tether toward him even as the trailing horse started to rear back, its front hooves flailing. His arm was numb, screaming at him to let go of the tether, but he closed his eyes and held. As the horse dropped its front hooves back to earth, he grabbed the advantage. He jerked his whole body forward. His weight, together with the tight grip he managed to keep on the tether, snapped the bit forward in the horse's mouth painfully. Whether it wanted to or not, the horse stepped forward. Jackson took advantage of the horse's movement, spurring his horse forward out of the light, clear from the sight of the revelers in the courtyard below. Another moment later the trailing horse had passed through the light. They were in the shadows again. Somehow, he'd done it.
The trailing horse fell into a trot behind him. Sweat slicked his fingers as he wiped at his forehead. That was close. He switched the tether of the trailing horse to his other hand and rubbed his aching shoulder. He hoped Frida hadn't run into any trouble with her part of the plan. His destination gradually came into view as he rounded the side of the castle, moving through the shadows at the edge of the forest.
Jackson dismounted and tied both horses to small trees skirting the circular driveway. Here at the front of the castle no one would have ever known what was going on in the courtyard out back. It was peaceful and quiet, the murmur of crickets creaking contentedly. Half crouched, moving in the shadows, he loped toward the front door. He rubbed his shoulder, moving it gingerly. Horses were strong animals. How he held that one from bolting, he couldn't fathom. The front door opened, filled with the black outline of a big person. A big person with her hair in a bun, waving at him. Jackson forgot his stealth, running into the light that fell on the driveway from tall brass lampposts, gas flames flickering.
From the open front door Jackson could hear a muffled “hurrah” echo. He flinched at the sound, but continued moving up the steps until he reached Frida. She grinned and pulled Felicia from behind the door. Felicia's hair was a little wild, like she'd been in a tussle, and her lipstick was smeared across her lips. Jackson reached out toward her. "Are you okay?"
"She's fine. My Tom barely got the chance to get his hands busy on her backside before I laid him down with this," answered Frida, pulling a pewter candle holder out from a fold in her dress for a quick peek. It disappeared just as quickly. "But you both have to make way now. I'll go and tell them the bad news - about how Tom was overpowered by this young girl. How I heard it happen on my way back from the powder room. But you won't have much of a head start. I'll have to tell them I saw her run out this door or they'll cook me good." Her head turned toward the sound of a voice yelling for Tom to "hurry up and give someone else a chance". It was full of laughter, then stopped when there wasn't an answer, yelling again in a more insistent tone, "Tom? What the hell you doing? TOM!"
Frida gave one quick look back at Jackson, a nervous tic twitching the corner of her eye. "Not much of a head start at all. Now go. Get to the church like I told you. I'll come as soon as I can. Sometime later tonight."
A quick nod and Jackson began running, pulling Felicia along with him, putting her on a horse and jumping on his own.
Jackson led the way, riding the dark road that coiled down the mountain from the castle. The sound of his horse's hooves pounded in his ears. White gravel was laid down on the road and it reflected the small bit of moonlight filtering through the canopy of trees. Jackson concentrated on the road fiercely, the wind tugging tears from the corners of his eyes as he guided his horse with deft pulls on its bridle and heel pressure on its flanks. The moonlight reflecting off the white gravel made the road seem to be a twisting current of silver water painted on a black canvas. One slip into the black and that would be all she wrote. It was a maddening sight, requiring all of his attention just to keep his horse on the road. Ahead, he could see the road curl tightly into a turn. A trail of silver that curved into blackness. Nothing but that ribbon of white silver to follow, which seemed more and more to be nothing but a flash of color dancing in his mind. His hands tightened on his reins and he yelled back to Felicia, "Careful here! Stay close!" His forearm bulged from the hold he had on the reins, steering his horse to the middle of the white path. He remembered the deep, rock-strewn gully coming up on the right side of the bend and there was no reason to take any chances by getting too close to the edge. From behind he heard a shrill noise that turned his head.
"Behind us!"
Felicia's yell reached Jackson at the same moment he saw the flash of light heading their way, far up on the mountain road. Spurring his horse on, Jackson's mind raced and his knuckles whitened in an iron grip on the reins. He had to get past this curl in the road. If he remembered correctly from his ride this afternoon, the forest did rise to meet the road after this bend. Their only chance was to get beyond this bend in the road and then slip into the black of the forest. Turning again, he saw there wasn't much time before whoever was back there was upon them. Worse, Jackson had the thought that it was Dr. Kirtland and Nathaniel back there, both smiling horribly as they rushed to gather Felicia up and take her back for the night's festivities. Maybe even taking turns on her before they drove her back.
"Hah! C'mon horse, move!" Jackson yelled, surprised at the deep power of his voice. The
white strip of road flew under his horse's hooves, his weight pressed deep in the saddle as the horse leaned to its left to manage the curve of the road at such a high rate of speed. Jackson could see that each gallop brought his horse closer to the edge, going too fast to cut the edge any harder. He turned his head for an instant. Felicia was following his lead, her horse hurtling along the edge of the road while twin bobs of torchlight flashed through the trees behind her, still far back, but not slowing. His horse stumbled, hooves slipping off the edge for an instant, causing Jackson's jaw to clack shut. Hands clenched tight on the reins, knees gripping into the ribs of his horse, Jackson's heart stopped, waiting to feel the weight of his horse tumble and roll down the ravine. He was ready to leap from his saddle rather than feel the weight of his horse fall on him, snapping his bones into kindling. The solid thud of all four of his horse's hooves on earth jarred through the seat of his pants. He could breath again. They'd made the curve in the road.
Pulling back lightly on the reins, Jackson allowed Felicia to come to an even gallop next to him. She was breathing as hard as her horse that had white slobber flecking its lips. He slowed his horse to a trot, yelling at her to slow down with him. Once she had, he reached across to grab her arm.
"Get into the woods. Get in there deep before they find us," he said, looking back, barely making out the two riders holding torches, just beginning to ride into the curve they'd just managed.
Goading his horse into the edge of the black forest, Jackson let the animal pick its way through the trees. In the space of a breath the forest became an absolute blackness that even his sharp vision couldn't penetrate. Behind, he heard Felicia's horse follow, the sound of leaves crunching and underbrush swishing. He gauged that they were not more than twenty feet into the forest when he stopped. It wasn't deep enough to suit him, but he didn't dare move any further. Through the black pillars that were tree trunks, Jackson could see the torches flickering on the road. Their pursuers had stopped. He held his breath. Why weren’t they going on? Why did they stop there - near the spot where he and Felicia had gone off the road into the forest?
