by Daniel Adams
She tucked the money into her boot.
“If that’s what you want, Benny” she whispered in his ear.
“Why don’t you marry me? Jenny?”
“Because your wife would string you up by your balls.”
“Oh, that.”
“Drive slow,” she told him.
“Only way I go any more,” he replied.
She disengaged herself from his arm.
“See you next Tuesday,” she promised.
“Wednesday. Council’s meeting on Tuesday.”
“Ok, Wednesday it is.”
He veered across the parking lot to his car. With a final wave, he drove away. Jenny watched him go then went inside.
Had Jenny been more observant, she would have seen Rafe’s car parked behind some trees at the edge of the parking lot. If Ben hadn’t talked her into having a drink, she would have spotted the car. As soon as she entered the building, Rafe, Junior Barnes and Leroy got out of the car. With Rafe leading the way, they went around to the back of the building. Jenny was in for a surprise.
Jenny went to the kitchen where she found two of the hookers, Fran and Suzie drinking shine out of a quart jar. Fran was tall with bad skin. Suzie was short, overweight and had greasy bleached hair.
“Hasn’t been this slow in months,” Jenny observed. “Last time was February when the cops ran that sting.”
“Tell us about it,” Fran replied. “I’ve had better nights at church.”
They all laughed.
“You still singing in the choir?” Jenny asked.
“Naa, I don’t have time. I’m workin’ out at Wes’s still when I ain’t here.”
Suzie handed Jenny the jar of shine. Jenny took a long swing.
“I only made a hundred tonight,” Suzie complained. “Keeps up like this, I’m gonna have to get a day job. Might even go to that technical school in Jackson.”
“You made twenty five more than me,” Fran said. “It stays this slow, we’re gonna have to start givin’ out coupons like at the grocery store. Five dollars off on your next blow job.”
“Go ahead and keep the money. I’ll tell Rafe we didn’t have no customers.”
Fran and Suzie suddenly got quiet, their eyes locked on something behind Jenny.
“What’s goin’—
Leroy’s huge arm encircled her neck and lifted her off her chair. She struggled to breath, her hands grabbing helplessly at his rock-like arms. Junior Barnes and Leroy pinned her against the wall. A moment later, Rafe entered the kitchen, his eyes locked on her face.
“What else have you lied to me about?”
Leroy relaxed his hold on her. She sucked in several deep breaths before replying.
“I ain’t lied to you, Rafe. Leastways not about nothin’ important. They only made $175 between ‘em. It ain’t nothin’.”
He slapped her hard, bringing blood to the corner of her mouth.
“Lyin’ whore,” he snarled. “You think I didn’t know you was cheatin’ me? Saturday night you told me you had one hundred customers. Leroy saw one hundred and seventy five. Where’s the money from them seventy five customers?”
“There weren’t no one hundred and seventy five customers. Leroy didn’t count right. He can’t count past one hundred.”
Rafe looked at Leroy. “That right?”
“I can count ok. She’s lyin’.”
Rafe slapped Jenny across the face, leaving a row of red welts.
“Not my face, Rafe,” she begged.
Rafe slapped her again. Harder. She sagged against Leroy.
“You girls get upstairs,” Rafe ordered.
Fran and Suzie gladly ran up the stairs. They knew what was coming.
“Hold her up!”
Leroy held Jenny up by the neck. With calloused indifference, Rafe slugged her in the gut. The air shot out of her lungs and she doubled over. He leaned down so his face was an inch from her ear.
“Where’s my money?” he yelled.
She couldn’t hear him because she was out cold.
The streets around Doctor Flint’s house were dark and quiet. Most of the houses were dark as well with the exception being Doctor Flint’s house, which had light coming from every window. It was very unusual for Doctor Flint to be up so late. Normally, he was in bed before ten o’clock because he knew he could be summoned at any moment to take care of a sick or injured person. Being on call 24/7 in Kingswood was certainly no treat. There had been talk of funding a hospital that would attract more physicians but nothing had been done to put it into motion.
Doctor Flint and Mattie sat on the floor with their backs against the sofa. They were listening to music from Doctor Flint’s stereo. Doctor Flint was dressed in very elegant slacks and an expensive pullover shirt. Mattie wore slacks and a tight top that accented her breasts. They were drinking wine from antique wine glasses Doctor Flint had bought at a garage sale. The song ended.
“That’s a great sound system,” she told him. “It sounds like the orchestra is sitting on the other side of the room. I could hear every little sound the musicians made.”
“I put you right in the sweet spot,” he explained. “That’s where all of the sound converges. I close my eyes and pretend I’m actually at a concert. After you listen to a song a couple of times, you can begin to pick out little things you miss on the first playing. If you listen closely, you can hear one of the violinists drop his bow.”
“I heard it.”
“Can I freshen your glass?” he asked.
“No, I’m good. Can I ask you something personal?”
“How personal?”
“Why do you stay here? You’re obviously way too talented for Kingswood. These people don’t appreciate you in the slightest. Do you have some sort self-hatred thing going on? I know you can work anywhere you want to?”
“I’m too tipsy to go into it now. Is that ok? We can talk about it next time.”
“Next time, huh? You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
“Not so much. It’s just the hooch. The drunker I get, the bolder I get. That’s fair warning.”
“We don’t have to go into the whole thing. Just give me a hint.”
“Ok. If you want to change the world, how do you do it?”
“You tell me,” she said.
“It starts with one person. You. Or in this case, me. I hate what medicine has become. It’s not about the patients any more, it’s about money. Doctors are far more worried about their bottom line and buying a new car then they are about how their patients are doing. Yes, I could have a very lucrative practice but that doesn’t bring about change.” He swept his arms around to indicate the clinic. “This does.”
“One step at a time.”
“Something like that.”
She decided to change the subject.
“How much did this stereo system set you back?”
“A little over five thousand.” He held up his hand. “And before you think that’s way too much, it’s my only vice. I may live where I don’t want to but that doesn’t mean I can’t have beautiful music. It’s not like I have anything else to spend my money on around here. I don’t go out to eat very often—out of self-preservation—you wouldn’t eat out here if you could see what goes on in the kitchen—anyway, I put the money I save by eating at home into my stereo system.”
“I’m not busting your chops. I was just curious.”
“I know this isn’t cool but I’m curious about your last name.”
“You aren’t the only one,” she laughed. “My father is Irish--he's a red-faced New York cop--been on the force thirty-one years. He met my mother in a nightclub in the Bronx where she was singing. They got married--had one child-yada yada yada.”
“I'm from a mixed marriage myself. My Dad's an engineer and my Mom's a blond.”
They both laughed. Mattie loved how good she felt with him. She couldn’t recall ever being with a man who made her so at ease. There was absolutely no tension. She felt like she had
known him her whole life. She had heard from her friends that when she met the right man, she’d know it and maybe they had been right.
“A cook and a comedian. You’re very talented,” she grinned.
“You don't know how good it feels to have an intelligent conversation--especially with a beautiful, sexy woman.”
The peeper had a perfect view of Mattie and Doctor Flint through the open front window. Pressed against a bush so his profile didn’t show, the peeper watched the couple, waiting to see what would develop. The peeper’s cell phone was in his hand, ready to take a picture if the situation warranted. He had been there the whole evening. He was a patient man. He had peeped many times before. He was astounded at how little people paid to the outside world once they closed their doors. In all of the years he had been peeping, no one had every caught him—or even realized he was there. He had some damn nice pictures he kept in an album in the basement where his wife and kids would never look. Once in a while someone closed a drape but that was usually later in the evening long after he’d snapped plenty of pictures.
“You better be careful,” she warned. “I might get the idea you’re hitting on me.”
“Was I that obvious? I hope so.” He smiled at her with a smile that let her know he was very interested in her.
Mattie had her concerns. Not about them as a couple—that seemed to be working fine. Her main concern was the town and how Doctor Flint would be perceived if he dated a Black woman. She was afraid he would be ostracized—or worse.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea?”
He studied her face, trying to get a feel for her hesitation.
“Why not?”
“Aren't you concerned about what people will think?
“Would I be the kind of person you’d date if I was?”
“No.”
There it was. They both knew the risks and they both knew they would have to rise above them.
“Race doesn't matter one bit to me. What matters is what's in here.” He tapped his chest over his heart. “You have a good heart, Mattie, I can tell. That's what attracted me to you.”
“That’s strange,” John, “because most people think I’m too much of a hard ass.”
“I think that's a smoke screen to keep people away. Underneath, you're a warm, caring person, but something's bothering you--something that you can't let go of. I’m not trying to play super shrink here, it’s just that I feel it so strongly.”
Mattie stood up. After finishing off the wine in her glass, she put it down on the coffee table.
“A cook, a comedian and a shrink. You’re quite the catch.”
Looking alarmed, he quickly stood up.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was just an observation.”
She touched his arm, noticing the slight tingling feeling she felt when their skin touched.
“You didn’t offend me, it was just getting too intense. It’s too late to have a serious conversation.”
“Don't listen to me. I was just going off a wild-ass hunch. Doesn't mean anything. Let's forget it.”
“You weren’t wrong,” she concluded.
Six miles away, Rafe methodically beat Jenny with his fists, a stick and a boot he had found on the floor. Each blow turned her flesh red and some of the red spots were already turning an ugly purple and blue. She was out cold, her body sagging against Leroy who held her up for Rafe to punch. Rafe wrested her out of Rafe’s big hands and threw her against a wall. As soon as she hit the floor, he kicked her in the back—hard—then stamped her legs with his shoes.
“Get up!” he bellowed.
She didn’t move. He kicked her in the ribs then dumped a jar of moonshine over her head.
“No more,” she moaned.
“Don’t pass out on me!”
“Please,” she whispered.
“Nobody steals from me,” he snarled. Reaching in his pocket, he took out a knife and opened the blade.
He roughly threw her on the table.
“Gonna give you something to remember me by,” he said, his face a mask of savage hatred.
He pinned her down on the table.
“Hold her arms!” he said.
Leroy didn’t like what was happening. He didn’t mind beating a man but a woman—a white woman—well that was something else. But he knew if he hesitated, Rafe might turn on him so he held her arms.
Jenny got an arm free and scratched Rafe’s arm.
“You bitch!” he screamed.
With a single punch, he knocked her out.
Using the knife, he carved a crude “W” on her forehead. When he was done, he rolled her onto the floor.
“Junior, you and Leroy take her out to the highway and dump her. Don’t stop. Just dump her out of the door. You got it?”
“Sure, Boss,” Junior Barnes said. “She dead?”
“Does it matter?” Rafe snapped.
He and Leroy picked Jenny up by her arms and legs.
“Don’t carry her,” Rafe commanded.
They dropped her.
“How fast?” Leroy asked.
“Sixty!” Rafe replied.
Leroy pointed his finger at Rafe and made a clicking noise with his mouth.
“Right!” Leroy said.
Each holding an ankle, they dragged Jenny out the door.
“Fran, you and Suzie get down here and clean the place up!” Rafe ordered.
Leroy and Junior Barnes put a couple of plastic bags on the back seat of Junior Barnes’ truck before they dumped Jenny’s bloody body on the seat. Leroy pushed her far enough across the seat so he had room to sit next to her. As soon as she was on board, Junior Barnes drove north out of town, careful to stay below the speed limit so he didn’t attract Sheriff Wilks or one of his deputies. It wasn’t that he was concerned about being caught—the Sheriff was in the bag—it was that he didn’t want anyone to think that he had beat up Jenny. As ruthless as he was, he still didn’t do some things and beating a woman was one of them.
“How far we goin’?” Leroy asked.
“Couple of miles.”
“I’m thinkin’ sixty be too fast,” Leroy stated.
Junior Barnes was glad that Leroy had spoken up. He was thinking the same thing.
“Rafe said sixty.”
“We don’t always do what he says,” Leroy reminded him. “She ain’t dead yet. She was always good to me. Never called me a nigger. Treated me like I was as good as anybody else. Shame to kill her.”
“Weren’t our money she stole,” Junior Barnes conceded.
“How about twenty-five?”
“Yeah.”
Five miles north of town, with the truck going twenty-five miles per hour, Leroy opened the back door, let Jenny dangle feet-first out the door then let her slip gently onto the asphalt. At the lower speed her body slid along the pavement rather than rolling which saved her life. At sixty, her body would have rolled end over end, snapping her neck or crushing her skull.
Jenny didn’t know it but Karma/luck/God was to play a role twice in her life this night. The first time was when her kindness to Leroy caused him to defy Rafe’s order to dump her out at sixty and the second was Mattie’s decision not to have a long conversation with Doctor Flint at the tail end of a long fun evening. Both were apparent random acts IF you didn’t believe in divine intervention or the power of a good deed.
Had Jenny been conscious after her body rolled to a stop, she would have seen two things: the night was as dark as the inside of a politician’s heart and the stars were incredibly bright and beautiful. The Milky Way swept across the sky from horizon to horizon, boldly dividing the heavens into two segments, both equally beautiful. She lay on the pavement five minutes before distant lights flashed across her body and another two minutes before Mattie’s car stopped nearby, Jenny’s apparent lifeless form caught in its powerful headlights. After a brief examination, Mattie gently picked up her body and put it on the back seat of her car. Screeching a 180-degree turn
on the pavement, Mattie’s car roared away, leaving the stars to shine on the silent asphalt.
Carrying Jenny in her arms, Mattie burst through Doctor Flint’s front door.
“John! John!”
Hearing her yells, Doctor Flint rushed to the waiting room. One look at Jenny was all he needed.
“Take her to the operating room.”
John ran ahead of her to the operating room. With one quick sweep, he cleaned off the operating table then helped Mattie position Jenny on the stainless steel surface.
“You know her?” Mattie asked.
“Name’s Jenny Calvert. She runs the local whore house.”
Doctor Flint quickly examined her, stopping at each injury to assess its impact on her.
“That might explain the “W”,” Mattie opined.
“Might,” he agreed.
Doctor Flint listened to Jenny’s heart then felt all of her bones.
“Judging by the road rash, I’d say she was dumped out of a moving vehicle,”
“No doubt about it,” Doctor Flint concurred. “She’s in bad shape. It looks like someone beat her before she was dumped. Look.”
Doctor Flint pulled back her blouse to reveal a shoe print on her stomach.
“I’ll call the Sheriff.”
“Call him later. I need help. If we don’t get her stabilized, she’s going to die.”
“What can I do?”
“Cut off her clothes. It will hurt her too much to pull them off.”
Mattie knew where the scissors were kept. Being as gentle as possible, she carefully cut off Jenny’s clothes. As she pulled off each piece of clothing, it revealed terrible cuts and bruises on Jenny’s naked flesh. Someone had really done a number on her.
“Do you know anything about her? Does she have a husband or boyfriend?”
“Never treated her.”
Doctor Flint quickly hooked up an IV to her arm.
“I’m going to give her morphine so she doesn’t shock out on us. If she doesn’t go into shock, she has a chance. As far as I can see, none of the cuts on her body are bleeding that badly. We’ll x-ray her to make sure she isn’t bleeding internally. She needs an MRI but we’ll just have to get by with an x-ray.”
