by Nick Younker
Linton continued, “This reservation here, this is something that Mom and Dad built together after they were married. My grandmother gave them the financial support to do it, as a wedding gift, sort of. I’ve often thought that she knew what it was for and she may have been supportive of it, but she never revealed that to me. My grandfather died before I was born, so she was less than naïve about counter-culture and even a little . . . partial to it. But like I said, she never let it be known to me.
“Over the past thirty years, or I guess I should say my entire life, we’ve been a part of that network, housing women and children, from out of state of course, until the network could set up their permanent homes and new lives.”
Kelly was speechless. She stared at him in awe. It worried Linton because he was not quite sure how she was taking the news.
“Please, Kelly, say something.”
Kelly shook her head as if she was still registering the news.
“I promise you, honey, these women, they would have been badly hurt or even killed by their husbands had we not intervened in their lives. Their children, too. Please tell me you . . .”
Kelly reached out and held his face, gently. She had a look of both concern and kindness, a fragile kind of stare.
“As if I ever needed a reason to love or trust your mother. But now, she has given me even more pride in being part of something that is bigger than just you and I. She’s making the world a better place and I humbly accept the secret. The man I love and his mother I adore. You can always trust me with this.”
Her response slowly soaked within him. His tension evaporated and slowly, a tear rolled down his cheek. He had finally been able to define love. The moment hadn’t passed him by. He had grabbed onto her and now he was never letting go. He pulled her into him and they embraced each other for the first time as transcendent lovers.
Holding Kelly was just the right time to reflect on what was important to him. When his father disappeared back in ’73, he was only 10 years old. He remembered that day with vivid clarity. His mother had cooked him a fried bologna sandwich on a grilled cheese. She made him wait in the house while his dad geared up their johnny across the street on the boat ramp. He’d had a baseball game that day and he still wore his jersey with the team sponsor’s name on it, Rudd Insurance. His mom took the sandwich off the stove, opened it up and squirted some mustard on it for him.
He’d raced out of the house while chomping on his grilled bologna and cheese. The mustard had spilled on his shirt, leaving a stain. He had always gone with his dad out on the boat, so he assumed that he was doing the same thing that day.
Linton had pounded across the dock and was just about to board the johnny when Sammy Derr stepped in front of him.
“Not today, son,” Sammy said. “Your momma has some things she wants you to take care of in the cabins and I have a few runs to make in Fogstow. You go back and take care of your momma’s chores and I’ll come back to get you tonight. We’ll do some night fishing.”
“But I want to go with you. I can take care of the chores tonight,” Linton had told his father.
“Sorry, buddy. Rules are rules,” Sammy said as he fired up the johnny motor. “Make sure you wipe that mustard off your shirt. You know your momma don’t like those stains.”
Linton looked down at his shirt and saw the mustard stain, and then looked back up at his dad with a smile. Sammy was just pulling his leg. Carolyn never minded getting stains out of little Linton’s clothes.
Sammy buttoned his flannel shirt, which was red and white with black stripes down the front. He wore an unbuttoned vest coat, but he took it off because the day was getting so hot. He revved up the johnny motor and pulled away from the dock.
“Remember, do what your momma says, buddy.”
That was the last time he ever saw his dad.
***
8
The rain had stopped pouring down and people were leaving the Stow Tavern for the night. Deputy Jeff Stark was making rounds in the parking lot, shining flashlights in people’s cars, making sure they weren’t too drunk to drive. A lot of people had come from counties in the surrounding areas and were making a longer drive home than the patrons from Fogstow.
A group of teenagers had congregated on the north side of the Stow, smoking cigarettes. Some smoked joints or discreetly drank beer.
Embedded within the group of smokers was Bob Stamps’ ex-wife, Sandra, and her mother, Candy Odair. Rush Amiano stood beside Mike Brownsman, who was drinking a beer and talking with Carrie while Kurt Peters passed a joint back and forth with Kate Liddel.
Sandra made her way over to the Brownsman circle and started puffing the joint with Kurt and Kate. Candy had followed and moved uncomfortably close to Kurt.
Kate saw this and felt a little grossed out by the two older ladies invading their space. Sandra puffed the joint and turned to speak with Rush.
“Say, handsome, where you staying at tonight?” Sandra said.
Rush was taken off guard, and Carrie noticed it from the corner of her eye even as she talked with Mike. It was okay, though. She trusted Rush and had no worries about him giving into a nasty older tramp like Sandra Stamps.
“Um, well . . . I think we’re all gonna camp out tonight by the sinkholes,” Rush answered.
Sandra gave him a seductive smile and closed in on him, pushing her breasts against his chest. She put her hand on his shoulder and said, “Who does ‘we’ include?”
“Well, that would be me, Mike, Carrie and a few others. You know — high-schoolers,” Rush said, hoping she would get the point.
Sandra looked over at Carrie and Kate and let out a small, condescending laugh. She pushed herself against Rush and firmly grabbed his penis.
“Why would you want a little girl when you could have an experienced woman who knows how to please a man?” Sandra said, squeezing his penis more tightly.
Rush raised his hands and jerked backward, stunned. Carrie threw down her beer and pushed Sandra away from Rush.
“Why don’t you go somewhere else and try to rape a child, you smelly old whore!”
Sandra had been smiling at the intervention, but when Carrie said “smelly” and “old,” that set her off. She started to come at Carrie with clenched fists, but Candy put herself between them.
“I think that we will just let this one go, sweetheart,” Candy said. Their agenda for the night did not include going to jail, and there was a county deputy in the same parking lot.
Candy and Sandra knew that several of these teens lived in the TC with their rich parents, and when they could get one of them to sleep with Sandra, all they had to do was pretend that Sandra was pregnant and blackmail their fathers. Candy would tell them a little cash would keep them quiet and pay for an abortion.
Sandra had actually been barren ever since she gave birth to Ellen, whose real father was unknown. They pinned it on Bob, though, given that Sandra and he were married at the time. He would have never suspected otherwise — that do-good, worthless, working-class nothing of a man. Even if he did suspect, he wouldn’t have done anything about it. What a sucker!
“Let’s just all calm down and go our own way,” Candy said to the small group and pointed Sandra the opposite direction. They both started to walk away, but before they left Candy whispered in Kurt’s ear.
“Sandra really wanted you, but she was too shy. If you want her too, meet her behind the Marine supply shop in ten minutes,” Candy told Kurt before she walked off.
Kurt did not know how to take that. It was creepy that this nasty old lady was pimping out her own daughter, but at the same time, he was the only single guy in their group and he was horny as hell. Although the idea repulsed him, he was so turned on by it that he had to at least try. He waited for them to drive off and then told everyone else to go on without him. He said he would catch a ride to the sinkholes later.
Rush and Carrie knew exactly what he was doing, but they didn’t try to stop him. Poor Kurt had all kind
s of trouble with the ladies and Rush knew he had to get it somewhere. Might as well let it be.
As Kurt walked away, Rush caught up with him.
“Just make sure you wrap it up, bub. She’s been with everyone within a hundred miles of here,” Rush said.
“What?” Kurt said, trying to look like he didn’t know what he was talking about.
Rush pulled a condom out of his jean pocket and handed it to him.
“Just use this,” Rush said. He walked away before Kurt had a chance to say anything.
* * *
Stark made his way over to the crowd of teens and everyone started stomping out their cigarettes and joints. Rush and Mike put up the tail gate to hide the cooler of beer.
“I don’t want to spend all my time ruining you kids’ night, so go ahead and clear out of here and I’ll pretend I didn’t smell that reefer from clear across the parking lot — or see that cooler in the back of your truck,” Stark told Rush and the crowd.
“No problem, Jeff,” Rush said. He turned around and whistled for everyone to clear out.
They didn’t mind because they would just end up going back out to the sinkholes and continuing the party there. Stark knew this, because that was him just a few years back.
Before they packed up in Brownsman’s truck, Carrie approached Stark.
“Hey, Jeff. I know Derri Emmons approached you earlier today and she was probably flirting with you. But I just wanted to let you know she was out here tonight with us and now I can’t find her. She was supposed to go with us, but she’s nowhere around. Can you keep your eyes open for her?” Carrie asked.
“Could she have left with someone else?” Stark said.
“I don’t know, maybe. It’s just — she was supposed to stay at my house tonight and now I can’t find her. Oh, well, I guess she’ll turn up. She’s been getting a little wild lately and she might’ve snuck off with a boy or something.”
Stark smiled. “I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll keep an eye out for her.”
Carrie loaded into the truck and they all took off, hooting and hollering as they left.
That gave Stark a laugh. He remembered those days like they were yesterday. He didn’t miss them, though. He was never really much into getting laid or partying, at least not all the time. He just remembered what it was like not to have all this responsibility and to be, well, carefree. It was only three or four years ago. He wondered if people like Linton or Sheriff Kramer could remember things like that, considering how old they were.
Most everyone had already cleared out except for the Izzy Lives band van, which bore a picture of Izzy with pale skin and black lipstick to go along with her black hair. He knew those two boys were camping out in it, since Pete wasn’t going to let them stay at his house with his daughter, so he walked over and tapped on the door. Mickey Crowley opened it. He only had a pair of boxers on, and Jason Gumpner was lying down behind him under a sheet, apparently naked.
“You boys all set for the night?” Stark asked.
“Yeah, we’re dog-tired so we’re about to crash out. It’s been a long month and I’m kind of looking forward to getting back to Bloomington after our New Albany set tomorrow,” Mickey said.
Stark looked around inside their van and he could see no other cot on the floor. He wondered if they were sharing the same sheet or if Mickey just slept without a cover.
“You boys know it’s going to be cold tonight?”
“Oh yeah. We’re good. We have blankets and pillows.”
Stark double-tapped their door. “All right, then. G’night boys.”
Mickey pulled the van door shut and Stark could hear them rustling inside. The van windows had a tint to them so no one could see in, but he could hear them as he walked away. They were laughing about something and rustling around, making the van shake.
Stark had a pretty good idea they were gay. He never knew why, but he had always been able to peg someone for gay. He had been a little unsure about his own sexuality for years now, given that he had women always crawling around him, but he’d never been drawn to them.
He got his flashlight and started to walk along the brush off the side of the docks that led up to the bridge connecting the town to Alcatraz Beach. He crossed over the bridge and shined his flashlight along the wooded area. The night was bright enough from moonlight shining behind the overcast clouds that he didn’t really need the flashlight unless he was in the shade of the trees.
He could hear some rustling in the woods up ahead, but he was not quite sure what it was. He had to walk about forty feet up Squaw Creek past the bridge before he could figure out was hearing. When it became more audible, he could clearly make out the words please and no. That was it! Someone was saying please, no, and then he heard not again.
He held his weapons belt as he jumped across the ditch and scurried further into the woods. He heard a commotion and someone saying just shut up, bitch!
Stark hurried in the direction of the voices and commotion. When he got there, he could see that Bret Holder had Derri Emmons on the ground. He was holding her hands behind her back as he rammed his naked body into her from behind.
Stark could see no real option. The pale moonlight turned a more defining red and his vision became distorted, as if the world around him was changing colors. He could feel the rage tearing at his guts, and when his vision was restored, he could hear and see perfectly, as if he had night vision. The redness gave everything a more defined presence.
Holder pounded himself into Derri’s tiny little frame over and over with such force that her tight bottom rippled. Blood leaked down her legs. Massive bruising would soon settle in and she would likely need surgery for the pelvic injuries Holder was inflicting.
Stark’s approach was subtle. He didn’t run, he simply walked and did not stop. He would accomplish his mission in a calm and orderly fashion. There would be no arrest. His rage had only reasoned with him enough to suggest that the punishment should not be played out later, in a long, drawn out due-process. Justice was going to be served at the moment the damage had occurred.
Bret had just reached his orgasm with a roar before he heard someone approaching. He barely had time to turn and look before Stark hit him with a metal flashlight. The impact knocked Bret to the ground, unconscious.
Derri was crying as she looked up at Stark. Stark was not looking at her. He was only looking at Bret on the ground. He pulled a pair of gloves out of his back pocket, put them on, and squatted beside Holder’s unconscious body. He had time to consider how he was going to carry out justice on Bret.
Derri tried to stand up but had a hard time with it. She kept expecting Stark to come and help her, but he hadn’t even looked at her. She thought maybe he was disgusted with her and didn’t want to see her. She wanted so badly to tell him the truth, that Tim Jacobs had lured her out there to smoke a joint and make out, but when she got here, Bret Holder was waiting and Tim Jacobs was sent packing.
She wanted to tell him that she tried to stop Bret but he was too powerful, just as he had been when he raped another girl at his party a week ago. She wanted Stark to be the first man she truly made love to, not Bret. But that choice had been taken away from her by that horrible man. And all she wanted was for Jeff Stark to love her and protect her and tell her everything would be okay.
But none of that was happening because Stark wouldn’t look at her. It was as if he didn’t even know she was there. More to the point, Stark looked more like someone else. Someone she’d never met. His eyes studied Bret Holder and the area around them. He was making a plan. He seemed to be operating on a different plane.
She used all her energy to force herself up and pull the pants over her beaten legs and pelvis. The pain shrieked through her. She could barely walk, but she managed to limp over to Stark.
He was still scanning the area when Derri put her arm on his shoulder. He jumped violently backward and started swinging his fist with his eyes shut, as if he’d been awakened from a sleepwa
lk. Derri also jumped backward and gasped with her hands across her face.
“Derri?” Stark said.
“Jeff. Jeff, you helped me. You stopped . . . stopped him from hurting me more. Please, Jeff. Please help me,” Derri said as she started to collapse.
Stark shot over and caught her.
“Derri, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t focus on anything except — except hurting Bret.”
“I’m okay, just lean me against a tree,” Derri said. “Just don’t let me sit down.”
Stark leaned her against a tree and stepped away.
“I know about you, Jeff. I know why you didn’t have any interest in me. And I also know that doesn’t stop you from caring about me.”
“Derri, I . . .”
“It’s okay. I also know what you were going to do to Bret.”
“Let’s just get you home, Derri. I will deal with him when I . . .”
“Do it! Do it now, Jeff. I have to see it happen. He’s just going to keep on and we both know I can’t send him to jail, considering who his father is.”
Jeff looked back at Bret, who was starting to regain consciousness. He knew the law could be of no comfort to her, either. But he couldn’t do what he was going to do in front of her. It would scar her for life.
“What is it that you think you know about me, Derri?”
“I know you like men. And I know you were about to give him a taste of his own medicine. I want to be here when you do it. I want him to see my face while it’s happening to him. Do it. Don’t even think about it, just do it. No one will ever find out about it,” Derri said.
In a way, he was glad she knew. Even he had been lying to himself all this time. He just thought he did not like women. He never even considered that he liked men, or that men could arouse him in the same way others get aroused. He’d been turned on by men before, but he dismissed it, thinking it was something that happens to every man at some point or another and that it just went away. He had always considered himself normal because he knew no other way to be. But it was true, he was aroused by men and he knew what he could do to Bret Holder that would scar him for life. He knew he could serve justice on him right now and no one would ever find out, because he certainly would never tell anyone a man had raped him. He also knew that it would give Derri some sort of peace, to know that raping her had consequences, and she could sleep easier knowing that Bret knew this.
