The Vigilante

by Ramona Forrest

  Edging into the throng, he met a few guys he knew, but he eschewed the company of the females. He wasn’t sure of the status of their sex and didn’t plan to take one home and find out she wasn’t a she. “Hey bro, what’s happening?” he asked a lanky, stubble-faced dude named Joey.

  “Aw, ’nuthin’ much so far, unless that guy that got clipped happens to show, then we’ll get some action. Can’t take a joke, no how. Getting kinda late for them to come in. After midnight and all.”

  “Hell, it’s a wonder he’s brave enough to show his face anywhere after what happened to him,” Jake returned, putting the frosty, foaming glass of golden brew to his lips. “Had a tough couple of shifts and need to relax a bit. This place is a real kick, huh?” A trickle of beer ran down his chin. “God, I must be wiped out, drooling like a baby.”

  “Hey, Jake, here he comes, tagging along with that slicky lookin’, weirdo friend of his.” Joey nudged Jake in the ribs to catch his attention. “Don’t look real chipper, now does he?” he snickered, seeing Fred Callahan shuffle in with his companion, Denny.

  He needn’t have bothered pointing Callahan out. The sight of the unfortunate victim not only held Jake’s attention, but everyone else’s, too. Jake was enthralled at the sight of the rotund victim and his friend. He’d seen the extent of the man’s injuries first hand that night and would never forget the sight of those lacerated genitals.

  Jake waited to see how the mutilation had altered the man’s life, wondering that the poor soul had the courage to come out at all, when he was forced to endure the snide remarks, raw jokes, and such. “He’s got to feel well accepted in a place, to stick his neck in here like he does,” he murmured to Joe. “Wonder who his friend is? Even a creep like Freddie boy has friends? Go figure.”

  “Yeah, everybody in here knows and accepts those two. Anything pretty much goes in this place. Heard some mighty rotten stuff about both of ’em, too,” Joey confided. “Somebody really had it in for Callahan, and from what I hear, what he got, he well deserved. That is, if you go for the revenge thing.”

  “Well, if he’d done to my kid what they say he did to that nurse’s grandkid, I’d have chopped his damned balls off myself!” Jake said.

  “Yeah? What nurse’s kid?” Joey was surprised, he hadn’t heard that.

  “Grandkid. She never talks about it, but most of us know what happened anyway. That dude right there is the one who molested her grandkid and got off clean, so they say.”

  “Hell ya say, Jake—him?” He gestured at Callahan.

  Within moments, comments flew thick and fast toward the two as Denny and Fred found a booth. “Hey, queenie, how’s tricks? Gittin’ any lately?”

  “How’s things holdin’ up?”

  The words floated across the room, accompanied by raucous, roaring, laughter. Jake watched Callahan’s face redden in anger and embarrassment. His temper hadn’t been chopped.

  “Up your asses, you bastards, maybe you’re next!” Fred growled. His voice approached a thin, high-pitched, whine. His face wore an ugly scowl. “Don’t forget, that son-of-a-bitch’s still out there. They ain’t caught ‘em yet, and the damned bastard cops don’t give a damn if they do!”

  “Hey man, your voice is higher’n one of them sopranos!”

  Above the roaring laughter, Jake heard a woman’s voice ring out. “Aw, shut up; leave the guy alone, can’t you? Ain’t he suffered enough for you? You can behave yerselves or git the hell out, that’s what!”

  Jake saw a tall, raw-boned, female, or maybe not, wearing black studded leather pants, and very high, tight fitting boots. “Jeez, Louise, all that big bitch needs is a whip!” He chuckled. He’d heard the owner dressed like that, no surprise there. Satisfied, Jake knew he’d found excitement. He usually did at The Paradisio.

  Finally accepting a dance, she moved with passion and wild abandon. Jake noticed she chose her partners carefully because in The Paradisio you’ could never really be sure. That was the reason Jake stayed on his bar stool. Being an observer was entertaining enough.

  Later on, his eye caught the woman sitting in a booth, far back, partly hidden in the deep shadows, watching, and alone. Something about her nudged his conscience. She sat there watching the action and sipping her drink. Her make-up, exotic and excessive, didn’t hide her mature appearance entirely though her spare, athletic figure sported tight pants with a saucy flair, leather high-heeled boots, and a sleazy see-through blouse cut in buccaneer style. The gathered sleeves draped down, baring a good bit of smooth, creamy shoulder.

  “That chick’s getting on in years, but she’s sure as hell a bundle of dynamite anyway, ain’t she? Wonder what she’s doing in a place like this? Refuses any and all close contact, females or males, reminds me vaguely of a lioness on the prowl.” Jake thought she looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her. “She’s got too many damned miles on the clock for a hooker, but she’s sure one hell of a dancer, ain’t she? Can’t take my eyes off her, either. What the hell! What is it about her?”

  “Won’t take up with any of the ones she dances with, either, always leaves alone,” Joey told him.

  Later, Jake saw the woman edge out of her booth, move to the exit, and disappear. “Humph, wonder what that’s about. You never know what you’ll see in this damned place.” He tossed off his beer, said good night to Joey, and left. He needed some sleep. “Guess I won’t be doing a double tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Hands clenching, then unclenching, face feeling drawn and tight, Martha entered the psychiatrist’s outer office. Her nerves were on edge, stretched to the breaking point, adding to the dread of facing the new depths her doctor’s hypnotic questioning would lead to. Unsettled in the extreme, she shook visibly when the nurse beckoned, but she rose from her chair and entered Dr. Carton’s inner sanctum.

  She couldn’t run away. She needed this doctor for the sake of her mental health. Frightened beyond belief though she was, she’d have fought for the chance to be here. He was the only one who could save her sanity.

  “Good day, Martha. How’re you doing with all that’s happened so far?” Dr. Carton said after settling her in the soft, brown leather chair.

  “Not so hot, Doctor, I’m very afraid of finding out what happened to me as a child, and if I do, what’s the use of it? What can be done about it now? It’s too late for me.” She took a deep breath. “It can’t be anything I’d ever want to know, you must realize that.” She gulped, holding back her tears. “I had good parents. I don’t understand how these terrible things could have happened to me?”

  “We’ll know it all in time. Frequently parents will not believe what their child tells them. When that happens, the child has only herself to rely on and does what she must to survive. Obviously, you had to create an alter personality, one with the strength to withstand the terrible things done to you. Your ‘alter’ had that strength.” He smiled gently. “What we’re working for is called, ‘fusion’ or ‘integration.’ When that occurs, you will be one person again, and the hidden part of you will become an integral part of your consciousness. That also takes some length of time for adjustment. In some ways, you’ll be a bit different. You’ll have her additional strength, but you’ll still be you.”

  Martha had done extensive reading on the subject and understood his explanation and the ramifications fully. But her heart raced. Dr. Carton wasn’t talking about some patient in a medical book. It was her! It wasn’t some character in a story or doctor’s treatise. That made it incredibly more frightening. She decided to inform the doctor of the strange occurrences she’d faced only recently.

  Hesitantly, vacillating between wonder and embarrassment, she said, “Doctor, sometimes I awaken in the morning, smelling of cigarette smoke. I find traces of make-up that I would never use on my face. I have clothes in my closet I don’t remember buying or ever would. I have high-heeled leather boots, I mean, real high! Never in my life have I ever worn anything like that!” She panted. “Is that what’s going on?
Am I doing things I am not aware of as another part of myself?” She gulped for air and continued. “I know we’ve discussed some of this before but it’s still happening!”

  His eyes held hers. She knew instinctively he would be able to help her no matter what happened today. “It sounds like your alter has been a busy girl,” he said. “The day will come when you two are integrated, and she will become a conscious part of your life.” He smiled and nodded. “She’ll no doubt be a rather strong personality, in the bargain.”

  “I’m not at all sure I want to know her.” Martha sighed in futility but had to continue on. “Okay, I’m ready to try it again, but I can’t help being afraid. How will I know all the strange things she has done?”

  “That’s all right Martha, you have every right to be apprehensive, and yes, you will know everything. We’re all a bit fearful of the unknown, aren’t we? Just remember, my dear, none of this was your fault, or caused by you. Though you now suffer the consequences of what happened to you as a child. During those terrible times the strength of your alter protected your sanity. She told me her name is Serena.”

  “Serena?” Martha asked, puzzled. “You’ve spoken with her? Why that name, and will I ever know? You’re sure I’m not insane?” At his assurance of her sanity, she settled back and allowed them to begin.

  Dr. Schoenfeld slipped quietly into the room. She smiled warmly at him, taking comfort from his presence. He was gentle. Both men knew everything about her and soon would learn more. Dr. Schoenfeld sat facing her, took her hand, and began the hypnosis in his soft, comfortable voice.

  After the session ended, Martha felt lighter. She knew by her burning eyes, she had cried.

  “You did very well, Martha,” Dr. Schoenfeld said. “Some things will come to you quite soon; other things will take more time. We’re making great progress.”

  She left the office and got in her car, thinking deeply about her therapy. She guessed it was a good thing. She’d begun to look forward to the time all this would be over. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she drove aimlessly until she found herself in Jeannie’s driveway with no memory of driving there. “How scary, I’ve got to get this mess straightened out before I kill myself.”

  Jeannie met her at the door. “Mom, how are you?” The young women’s reddened eyes gave away her anxiety. She took Martha’s hand and led her to the den.

  Martha quickly forgot her own troubles, seeing the pain in her daughter’s eyes. “What’s happening, dear? Why do you look like that?”

  Jeannie frowned and pursed her lips into a straight line. “Will has been acting out. We went to the park. He threw stones at the ducks, shoved a little girl down, and tried to bully another little boy. We had to leave before he hurt someone.” She took a deep breath. “Mom, I’m frightened!”

  “Oh, I think he’s acting out some of his anger. In some ways that’s a good thing. Better than sitting like a zombie in front of the TV all day.” Martha blew her breath out in a soft whistle. “What does the psychologist say about it?”

  “He agrees with you to some extent. He says Will is going to undergo many phases on his road to recovery. This is an ugly one we don’t want to continue. I swear, Mom, I could go out and stomp all over that bastard’s balls myself for what he did to our child, and I’d like to kiss the guy who did exactly that!” She managed a smile at those words. “That filthy monster Callahan is lucky to be alive—or not. And no matter what phases Will goes through, he’ll never be the same. His innocence is gone, and he’s only five!” Tears slid down her face unchecked.

  “Jeannie, I don’t know what to say. Should I take him to Biggie’s Burgers again? If I do, I’ll caution him not to act the bully.” She sighed. “It’s easy to see why people who’ve been abused, become abusers. We’re seeing it! It’s happening right before our eyes to someone who’s been traumatized. It makes me think of some of the patients I’ve had through the years.” Her thoughts turned to an abused woman she remembered. Had her husband gone through a damaging childhood, suffering beatings, loneliness, and cruelty to then become an abuser as well?

  “Maybe someday, we’ll all be happy and not have these terrible feelings. I wonder if we’ll ever know peace and tranquility again.” Jeannie sighed and smiled at Martha. “What’s happening with you, these days?”

  “I wonder how to tell you. I’ve seen the psychiatrist again and he’s hopeful that my problems are solvable.”

  “Mom—what problems, you’re scaring me!”

  “I did mention that I had a problem the other day. You must have forgotten about it, but then again, I didn’t tell you much.” Martha looked at Jeannie, “I should tell you, I suppose, but I hate mentioning it. Your load is heavy enough with all that’s happening around here.”

  She took a deep breath. “When I was a very small child, something dreadful happened to me and it’s affecting me now. All these years, it hasn’t, and I knew nothing about it. But this thing with Will, and the anger we all felt when that man was released, must have pushed me over the edge. I don’t know it all yet, but I will.” She cleared her throat.

  Jeannie sat white faced, listening to her mother. “Over the edge?”

  “Yes, but only in the fact that I have an alter personality. Someone who lives inside my mind, created by the terrified, frightened child I was at that time. She came into being, to save my sanity. As by myself, I couldn’t survive what was being done to me. I know her name, too, it’s Serena.” Martha held out her hands in wonder. “Hard to take in, isn’t it, Jeannie? I can scarcely believe it myself.”

  “You’re creeping me out!” Jeannie put her hands over her ears to shut out the dreadful things she heard her mother say. “She or it, has a name?”

  “Oh God, Jeannie, maybe I should never have told you, but I wanted you to know about it. It all ties in somehow with what happened to Will. In general, it only occurs when something extremely traumatic happens to a small child. It’s one way they can cope with dreadful pain and fear—a way to survive. Remember the book Sybil? It’s something like that, but in my case nothing quite as severe. Her victimizations were very cruel and prolonged, she had many alters, twenty seven, I believe.” Martha hesitated, smiling. “Hey, think of it this way—the doctor found only one for me—well, so far anyway.”

  “Mom, I think I’m going to be sick!” Jeannie’s face paled from the shock of her mother’s words. “I don’t know what to say, I loved your parents—my grandparents. They’d never have allowed anything that hideous to happen to you! How could they? They loved you!” She paused. A quizzical half-smile broke out. “Only one, you say?”

  “That’s right, and she says her name is Serena. We don’t know the why of it for now, but we will. I’m frightened, Jeannie, because in time I’m going to learn hidden horrors of my childhood I had no idea existed. I hate to burden you with this, but it’s something you should know. My Chet was a fine, decent man, and a good father, but all men are not.” She huffed. “We know that all too well.”

  “My father was a good man,” Martha continued. “But he failed me, he never believed me. My mother never had much of a clue about anything. I think she lived in a dream world. Cooking, movies, books, and her soaps held most of her attention. All in all, she was never really a happy woman, married to my father. I think he may have chased around a bit, too.” She sighed. “I’m sure my doctor already knows what happened to me, but thinks I’m not ready to handle that as yet. He puts me under hypnosis to find out these things.”

  Jeannie gasped. “Mom—hypnosis?”

  “Yes, that’s how they find out everything. I must have told them a lot, by the looks on their faces. Several times when I’m awakened, I’d been crying, so it must have been pretty rough.”

  “Whew, that really up-ends me! I had a wonderful childhood, you know that. There are no ghosts inside of me.” Jeannie hugged her mother very hard. “Our lives will never be the same. They can’t be after everything that’s happened, and now this! I have to say, it’s totall
y unbelievable.”

  “Yes, ask me, I know. And what do I do with this wonderful man I’ve been seeing?” Martha couldn’t stifle a giggle. “How will I ever tell him about all this? What man wants to deal with a raving nut case?”

  “Mom, you’re no nut case. I’ll never believe that!” Changing her thoughts, she asked, “Is this man really so wonderful?” Jeannie was all ears for this new item of interest and momentarily set aside her concern with Martha’s mental state. “I want to meet him.”

  “All in good time, dear. I won’t tell him anything, not yet, I couldn’t. Actually, he knows something’s going on. He told me that, and said he’d help if he could. I can’t say I have no support, can I?” Martha shrugged and turned to leave.

  “What do I tell Martin, or do you want me to wait on that?” Jeannie asked. Then she said, “Will wants to go to Biggie’s again, too.”

  “I’ll take him tomorrow, but will it be alright to warn him against being too aggressive?” Martha had a helpless smile on her lips as she said, “And you can tell Martin as much as you like.”

  “Certainly, Mom, I’ll mention some of it to Martin. And we’re not raising a potential abuser either. I don’t know how we’ll do it, but I couldn’t bear it if Will turned out that way.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll never find it possible to forgive that evil, destroying fiend! How can I—how could anyone?”

  Martha left and drove home. When she entered her garage, she noticed the plywood leaning against the side. “Wonder whatever possessed me to buy that, I’m never going to use it. I wouldn’t know where to begin and the good Lord knows I’m no carpenter.” Exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day, she went into her house. “Couldn’t get any worse than today, or could it?”