Lying there, he listed the possibilities. “I’ve seen blue spots on AIDS patients, too, but they look furry, and are symptomatic of Kaposi’s Sarcoma. But on a nurse, I wouldn’t think so. Of course, it’s not politically correct to test for AIDS when you apply for a position in health care, or a restaurant either, for that matter. You must test for TB, but are not required to test for AIDS—how strange is that?” He continued grumbling until, finally, he slept.
***
Will jumped with excitement when he heard Martha’s car pull up. “Mommy, she’s here! Grammy’s here!”
His wild-eyed frenzy caught at Jeannie’s heart. What’s next? He certainly isn’t himself in this way either. “Settle down, Will. Give her a chance to come in for a minute.”
Since his last visit to Biggie’s, she’d watched the wildness steadily building in him—his eyes and voice, his movements, were jerky and barely controlled. The helplessness, of ever getting her innocent little son back, had crept insidiously into her soul. Has my boy changed into a total stranger, a monster in the making?
She eagerly met Martha at the door. “Hi, Mom, Will’s all excited, in fact, too excited. I’m worried sick about him. He hasn’t settled down at all since the incident in the park. He doesn’t sleep well, thrashes and moans in his sleep at night.” She frowned, blinking back tears. “I don’t feel right spanking him after all that’s happened, but maybe I need to consider stronger measures, or some way to get his attention.”
“Let’s see how it goes today,” Martha said. “I’d like to be able to correct his behavior if I need to. You may be right about a stronger hand, but you’d best see what his therapist says about that, too.” She felt Will’s small hands clutching tightly at her jeans, his face upturned to hers, and his feet nearly jumping on the floor.
“Hi darlin’, ready for Biggie’s today?” she asked. “Maybe you’d like to go to another place, would you?”
“Nope, Grammy, I like my old one with the slides, and I’m not afraid of nobody, no more!” His voice, strong and belligerent, sent a pang through her.
“Wow, Will! I hope we won’t meet any dinosaurs or dragons today.” She took his hand and led him to her car. “If we do, let’s talk about it, okay?”
Will chattered on, his speech excited and aimless. He sat restlessly in his safety seat, occasionally letting out a shrill shriek. Martha couldn’t believe the changes in his behavior compared to their last visit to Biggie’s Burgers. “Grammy, will the bad boy be there?”
His voice was so shrill, it made her sick to hear it. “I don’t know, Will. Why?”
“I’m going to punch his nose and make blood come out, Grammy.”
Nonplussed at Will’s attitude, Martha cautioned, her voice stern. “You’ll not be a bully at Biggie’s today, Will, I won’t have it. If he’s there, we’ll see how he acts. If he’s nice, you must be nice too. Got that?”
She knew her firm voice made no difference to Will, or even got through to his overly excited mind. With his belligerent new attitude, she wondered how the day would play out.
At the counter, they ordered. Will took no interest in his choices. He searched about for the bully.
“He’s here, Grammy! That mean old boy’s here!” He could barely wait until they were seated before he pulled off his shoes in readiness to play.
“Not until you’ve eaten, Will.” She made him sit and finish his Bittie Meal. “Now you may play, Will, but I won’t have you being a bully, and don’t you forget it!”
Will approached the bully, a larger, freckle faced, red headed child. “Wanna play?” he asked, standing straight and strong, face to face with the larger child.
“Yeah, with you and who else!” The boy raised his chin at Will and sneered. “Get away from me, you snotty nosed brat!” He reached out and shoved the flat of his hand against Will’s chest, making him step backward.
Will doubled up his fist, took a good swing, and hit the larger boy square on the nose. Seeing the blood spurting out of the child’s nostrils, Will stood there, just staring. Suddenly, the boy screamed and tore into him with both fists, pummeling, heavy and fast.
Martha swung into action, pulling the boys apart. “Here now, stop this. Where is your mother?” she asked the red-headed boy, holding him away from Will. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a thin, dark haired woman approach, her face clouded with anger.
“You leave my boy alone, and mind your own business!” The woman grabbed the boy and held him. “Lester, you okay! Did that boy hit you?”
“Yeah, Momma, he busted me right in my nose. He’s a meany, he is!” He sniffed tears while his mother blotted at the blood dripping down his shirt.
“Just wait until your father hears of this. You know he’ll tan your hide again, and real hard, too.” She lowered her voice to a soft menacing whisper as she spoke. The boy stopped crying and became silent. His face took on an ashen glow that Martha knew was terror.
At the haunting look of fear in the boy’s eyes, and his tightly drawn face, Martha knew instantly this little fellow was one more small child who suffered abuse at his father’s hands, most likely severe and often. Her shoulders slumped in a deepening sense of futility “Must you tell his father if the punishment will be so severe?”
“Lady, you just mind your own damned business. We know how to raise our boy, and don’t need ’nuthin’ from the likes of you.” She yanked her son sharply by his arm, and as they left the play area together, she warned, “You’ll be lucky if we don’t sue!”
Sickened, Martha gathered her grandson into her arms. “Will, I know why that poor boy is mean to others. It sounds like his parents are very harsh with him. I wouldn’t want what happened to you to make you a mean person. Do you see how the bad punishment at his home makes him behave? We don’t want you to be that way. Stand up for yourself, but never be mean, never! Do you understand?”
“Yes Grammy, I think so. Maybe I shouldn’t hit first, huh?”
“That’s right, Will. Stick up for your rights, but watch out for the rights of others, too.”
She hoped he heard her. He was quieter and seemed lost in his own world as they drove home. What’s going through that boy’s mind now? Will remained silent and took no interest in any sights passing by their car. What now? Martha thought in despair.
She told Jeannie the things that had taken place. “Somehow, today might be a good thing. Will knows why the boy acted so violently. And sorry as it is to say, he knows it’s because that boy’s parents are very severe with him. Cruelty begets cruelty, and while I don’t want to say the boy’s parents are abusive, I saw a very real look of fear in that boy’s eyes.” Martha held out her hands in frustration. “Are we to be surrounded by abuse everywhere we turn?”
“It looks that way right now. Maybe that’s why I want to move from here. But if these things happen everywhere, would a new place be any better?”
Martha had no answer. “See what Martin has to say. I wish he wasn’t gone so much. You need him home, more. He’s very good for Will and you, too.”
“He realizes that. We may need to move to Denver since he spends so much time there.” Jeannie paused then added, “Would you move there, too?”
“Probably, but not until I get myself straightened out.”
“How’s that going?”
“I see the doctor again in a couple of days. I dread going anymore, but I know I have to. Else I’ll never get rid of this thing.”
“This thing? It sounds so weird.” Jeannie shuddered. “Let me know what happens, okay Mom?”
“You know I will. You can tell Martin whatever you feel is necessary. He might want to know what a kook his mother-in-law is. Or would he?”
“He loves you, and your troubles are ours, you know that.”
“Thanks Jeannie, that means more than you could ever imagine. I wonder how you’ll feel when we learn all of it,” Martha said. “I wonder how I’ll feel, too.”
She took her leave, wondering what would ha
ppen next. Her hope that young Will would be influenced positively by what he’d experienced today held her attention.
But under all her other concerns, lay the dreaded knowledge of what had happened to her as a child. “It must have been horrendous, if I needed another part of me to withstand it.” She shuddered as a sick chill passed through her.
As she arrived at her driveway, she saw with delight that Lizzie Marin’s Caddy was sitting there in all its glistening glory. When Martha pulled in, her friend hopped out, slammed the door, and came striding over.
She leaned into the car window with her hazel eyes fixed on Martha. “Hey, girlfriend, haven’t heard a word from you. What’s happening?”
“Come in, Lizzie. Soon as I park this thing, I’ll make tea and we can talk.” Martha wanted to tell Lizzie everything, but couldn’t, not just yet. Same with Bob, I can’t tell him these insane things, either. If this dreadful thing isn’t taken off me soon, I think I’ll explode from it.
Once inside, Martha gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.” She went to her bedroom, tossed her purse on the bed, and returned to the living room where Lizzie sat, with an expectant look on her upturned face.
“Well, what’s going on?” Lizzie asked. “You wouldn’t tell me anything the last time we talked, but you’re not getting off so easily this time.”
Martha put the kettle on and brought out a few bite-sized cookies. “I don’t know where to begin. Have you ever had a dream where huge, bulky, soft things are tumbling and rolling at you and you can’t get out of the way?”
“I think we’ve all had that dream at one time or another. Things building up on you—is that it?”
Martha sipped her coffee, tasting nothing. “Like you’d never believe. I can tell you some of it, but I don’t know it all, not yet.”
“You’re kidding! Can I help? What can I do?”
“Liz, I’m seeing a doctor.” Martha hesitated. “A psychiatrist, he’s trying to sort out what’s been bothering me these past few months. He says I had a very bad experience when I was small, and now, it’s causing memory lapses. When I know more, I’ll tell you.” Martha squared her shoulders and added, “It’s wonderful to see you. I don’t want to waste a bit of time on dark things. What have you been up to?”
They drank tea, chatted, and watched another Jane Austen movie. Enjoying a movie about another time, where only income and status were of major importance, created several relaxed, enchanted hours for them both.
Martha enjoyed this friend like no other. Basking in the glow of their camaraderie, she finally confided, “Now about this male nurse, Bob Chance.” She nearly giggled. “I’ve been seeing him and it could become serious between us, maybe it already has.”
“You mentioned him the last time we met. So things heating up, eh?” Lizzie’s curiosity roared into full gear, her probing eyes demanding more details. “So?”
“I have unbelievably intense feelings for him, but with all my worries, I’m afraid to let things go any farther. I just can’t! I never thought anything like this could happen to me. It’s not fairy tales, Lizzie, it’s real. I know that now. He’s wonderful, he really is!” Martha let out a smothered squeal, like a high school girl. It felt so good to speak of Bob this way!
“You go, girl. I know you had a hard time of it when you lost Chet. If a good man comes along, go for it!” Lizzie lingered a bit longer, then took her leave, waving goodbye with a knowing twinkle in her eyes.
Martha heaved a sigh and headed for the bedroom. “Hope I can catch a few zzz’s. I sure must have been busy last night. God, I’m so tired!”
CHAPTER 17
Serena rose from the bed and stretched herself, much like a large, tawny cat. “I have business tonight, someone to find, and a great idea where to start looking. The Paradisio is a fun place. Fred hangs out there along with his best bud, Denny, our latest resident child predator. From there, I’ll suss out where this wart on the ass of humanity lives. I have business with that dude.
“Denny boy will soon be out offering toys or cookies again, maybe saying he needs help finding his lost puppy, as he hunts his next victim. That man is in need of a a real permanent lesson!”
She felt especially strong tonight as she entered the garage and reached behind the plywood. Satisfied all her supplies were there, she pulled out the box of disguises and applied the heavy make-up of a hooker to her face until she was satisfied she looked like one. “Tight leather pants, boots up to my ass, and not a helluva lot on top—something glitzy and see-through.”
Appraising the heavy make-up, she laughed, ready for a night at her favorite sleazy bar. “I’ll find the rat’s hole, if he’s there with Freddie boy,” she said, her voice nearly a growl of hatred. “I heard his remark about hoisting a few at The Paradisio. I’ve seen them there before. They love that disgusting place—they fit right in.
“I go there for kicks, though it’s really closer to their speed, not a place for a good girl like me.” She snickered. “Martha would hate this make-up and she’d have a coronary if she saw herself in this outfit! But a girl’s gotta have a bit of fun now and then, don’t she?”
Her outfit complete, her make-up applied, Serena stepped into the car and pulled out onto the street. “If he shows up with Freddie boy again tonight, I’ll follow the rat and see where he holes up.” Her jaw tight and firm with resolve, she smiled. “If I can take care of one, I can fix another one, too.
Arriving at the sleazy nightclub, Serena edged furtively into the smoke-clouded room. Odors of heavily-scented perfume, sweat, and booze lay thick over the crowded throng. Serena wound her way sinuously through the fuggy atmosphere in those high-legged boots and, reaching the back, slipped into a booth, edging far enough back to provide cover as well as a wide view of the patrons.
The bar was filled with mostly men. There were a few females hanging about, though gender confusion reigned supreme in the majority of this crowd. Some females took more interest in each other than in the males present. “What a place,” she murmured. It’s gender-bender around here all the way, with both sexes playing their parts. A good, anything goes, sort of spot for a sick bastard like Fred, and his friend Denny, too. No wonder they come here. They feel right at home.”
She didn’t see Fred or Denny, but ordered from the leather and chain-garbed waitress, or was she a he? Serena wasn’t sure about the waiter-waitress’s sex, nor did she care. Sipping her favorite drink, a stinger, she fended off offers from females and the occasional male wanting to take a turn about the psycho-frenetic dance floor.
The colored lights flashing under the floor gave the dancers a surreal look that made for entertaining surveillance. Women kissing and groping each other, males doing the same with other men were a turn off for Serena, but nothing unusual for this place. She had no plans to dance tonight, in any case.
It was after midnight before she saw Denny, quietly slinking in, Fred in tow behind him. She had a great view of their booth and giggled to herself at the sight of Fred wincing as he gingerly edged into his seat.
Ass still hurts a little, does it, eh, Freddie boy?
Denny ordered drinks as the two huddled together taking in the crowd.
Well-known and accepted in the place, the two men still created a bit of a stir. Serena heard laughing, and a man asked in a friendly voice, “How you doin’ there, Fred?”
“Shit, man, what do you think?” he answered.
Another piped up, “How’re they hangin’, Fred? Loose—a little limp?”
Fred’s face grew red. “You son-of-bitch, mind your own business!”
Serena chuckled to herself. Poor Fred had heard it all before, but couldn’t stop his flush at the howl of laughter the remark evoked. She heard him whine to Denny, and she stifled a giggle because his voice had reached an even higher than usual pitch. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Fred tried to get up from the booth.
Denny wiped the smile off his face. “Aw, let it go, Fred, it’ll
die down in time. Everybody knows about it. Forget it.” The evening had definitely lost its glow for Fred, but they hung on. Several tried to express sympathy for him, but he obviously didn’t care anymore. His spirit lay in ruins, as crushed as his gonads had been after she’d stomped them into the ground.
Serena watched them with glee. That the man suffered and bore the brunt of his shame in a public place had no effect on her. “Denny, my boy, wait your turn. It’s coming,” she growled quietly into her glass of booze.
One of the guys from the hospital glanced her way frequently, and she recognized that nosey aide Jake. It made her nervous, but she made no move to leave. This place is too much even for the likes of him. Wonder why he comes here.
As Martha, she knew him to be a dreadful busybody. His presence made her feel increasingly uncomfortable. She worried at the possibility of him recognizing her, though she felt certain her costume was good enough to put him off. But, seeing no chance for action this night, she decided to slip quietly away. “As Scarlet O’Hara would say, ‘Tomorrow is another day.’”
Chuckling to herself, she drove home and pulled into the garage. She carefully removed her sexy costume, folded the stuff, and placed it behind the plywood. Entering the house, she casually tossed the boots into the closet, laughing. “She freaks every time she spots these!”
She showered thoroughly, scrubbing the heavy make-up off her face and washing the smoke fumes from her hair as best she could before the familiar fuzziness came over her again. It was not all fatigue as she slipped into the bed and fell into a deep, exhausted, sleep.
***
Martha awakened feeling tired. “I feel all dragged out again this morning, and I think I slept well. Or did I?” Finding it difficult to pull her body out of bed, she lay there, considering her day.
The Vigilante Page 12
