Pandoras Box

by Shawn Luther

  The girl’s father had wanted to sweep in under the rug because he did not want any more shame on his family than they all ready had.

  The mother argued that this boy had to pay or he would just go out and do it again. She won that argument, the only one she had ever won with her husband.

  This was her baby and she would not let him get away with this.

  When the case finally went to trial, the rich boy’s father paid most of the jurors off. The boy’s attorney crucified this poor girl.

  Some said she it coming, dressed the way she was. She had also gotten into the truck with him willingly.

  They deliberated for a whole hour before returning a not guilty verdict.

  Lisa, devastated, went into a deep depression. There was nothing anyone could do to this prick legally.

  Lisa ran with our group of misfits in high school. It was Me, Monica Lewis, a girl named Kong (her real name was Karen) and her sister Joann. Mo and I were the only lesbians in town.

  Kong and her sister had also been abused by their father so they stuck close together.

  There is a long held secret in many rural areas. Be it a drunken abusive husband or a child molesting pig or worse yet a father who molests his own; women have their own ways of dishing out justice.

  We did not talk about it with the family so they would not be liable for what happened next. The less they knew the better.

  My friends and I decided to give him a taste of Texas justice vigilante style.

  I was planning on giving Tiffany’s boyfriend a dose of that same justice.

  While we waited we played the scene from years ago in our heads.

  We watched the rapist for a few weekends to get a sense of his comings and goings.

  He was easy, every Friday he got his paycheck, cashed it and went straight to the local watering hole to get drunk.

  All we had to do is wait in the parking lot for him to come out and climb his drunken ass into his truck.

  We waited for him to pull out onto the road and then followed him in my black F-250.

  He would have to turn down the dirt road and drive 5 miles after exiting the paved main highway.

  It was a dark deserted five mile stretch. I knew every back road in this county. There are many curves and deep ditches on each side. There were tall trees on either side providing good cover. Not many people lived down here. The ones that did were farmers and were all surely in bed at this hour. All I had to do was time it right and this would go off without hitch.

  I followed, my hands gripping the wheel so tight I thought it would bend in my hands as I watched him weave his way toward home.

  We wore black and painted our faces black with shoe polish.

  Eric turned onto the dirt road and we followed seconds later.

  We followed him for 2 miles to a hairpin curve just under a railroad trestle.

  Just as we passed under the trestle, I hit the gas and caught him just as he went into the curve.

  I aimed the cattle guard on the front of my truck for his left rear quarter panel slamming his truck spinning him violently into the ditch.

  I could see the shock in his drunken eyes through the windshield.

  The truck flipped on its side in the ditch pinning the right door shut.

  My friends’ piled out and ran to the truck and Mo jumped up on the door, reached inside and killed the lights. I pulled my truck up into a clearing at the tree line and killed my lights. I got out and ran to the other truck.

  Eric passed out and had a gash just above his right eye. Mo glanced at me briefly and I could see she was afraid we hurt him bad.

  She checked his pulse and looked relieved and gave me thumbs up.

  She grabbed him under his arms and with a huge grunt, heaved his sorry ass out of the truck.

  She unceremoniously dumped him onto the ground.

  Kong went and helped Mo drag him into the woods with me and Joann hot on their heels.

  A hundred yards or so in they stopped, Kong took out a buck knife and deftly flipped it open.

  With no expression she grabbed the front of his jeans and slid the knife into the waistband.

  While she worked Joann took up a look out post a few feet away. Nobody spoke.

  All it took was four lighting quick flicks of her knife and Kong had this sorry fucker lying there naked from the waist down.

  She growled at me to hand her the bag we had brought with us.

  She threw open the straps on the bag and took out a can of lye, a bottle of drain cleaner, gloves and a bottle of bleach.

  Eric had begun to stir and come to so we had to hurry; as she poured the whole can of lye onto his crotch he opened his eyes.

  He began to curse when Mo shut him up with a kick in the mouth which knocked him out again.

  Wasting no time Kong used her sharp buck knife to cut some small gashes into Eric’s privates. While none of these cuts were life threatening, they were going to serve a good purpose. Kong looked up at us and said “for his victim”. She then poured the drain cleaner on top of the lye and followed that with the bleach. The bleach hit the other two chemicals and violent reaction occurred. The chemicals began to melt his junk and he sat straight up and began to scream. He thrashed around on the ground. Kong threw the bottles into the bag and we took off running back to my truck. Mo and Kong jumped in the back. Joann and I jumped into the cab. I jammed the truck into drive and punched it. We could still hear Eric screaming as we hightailed it out of there. We did not even look back.

  We waited for him to report what happened to him to the law. When a month past we figured he was too embarrassed to say shit to anyone. If he got medical treatment they obviously did not report it either. None of us ever said a word about what we did to him. Eric was a different man after that. Where before he was loud and confident he was now quiet and he never went out to bars anymore. Years past and even though we knew people had gossiped about what happened to Eric. Nobody ever asked him. He wasn’t an asshole to women anymore. He never used that weapon against any other women again.

  Chapter 6

  I was jolted out of my memories by Mo jabbing my rib signaling that Rudy was on the move. He came out of the apartment and got in a fine ass canary yellow 68 Dodge Charger. I felt a little pang of regret that we were going to make him wreck that car. We were also going to introduce him to lye, drain cleaner and bleach.

  We followed him as he pulled out of the parking lot. We watched as he primped in his rearview mirror and both said simultaneously, “What a tool!”

  Rudy made a few stops on his way to work so we hung way back so he would not see us. He was easy enough to track in the ridiculously yellow hot rod.

  Rudy finally parked out front of the car repair shop where he apparently worked. I kept driving as he pulled in and parked. I drove into the strip mall full of closed businesses across the street and parked.

  It was 8:30 am; businesses were opening so we watched just long enough to make sure he worked there before pulling out and heading out of town.

  We wanted to buy a few items but needed to make sure nobody would notice. I sent Mo into the hardware store in the next town over to buy lye. I made sure she knew to talk about soap making just enough to justify the lye.

  Mo came back a few minutes later with her lye. As she got into my truck she had a puzzled look on her face. “What’s the matter”? I asked with a frown. “Nothing, I was just thinking that if we pit him out like we did Eric that friggin yellow paint will be real conspicuous!” I gave her a grin “Do not worry I have that covered. I’m going to spray my bumper with black paint. When we finish I’ll just wipe it off with paint remover.” Mo just looked at me for a second then said, “no shit? Remind me not to piss you off!” I just grinned at her as I headed my truck toward the highway.

  We drove to a couple of more stores in the towns that lay outside of Denver and bought all the remaining items we would need.

  We have to be certain we could handle him by ourselves this t
ime. Kong and Joann would not be there to help this time. So we bought handcuffs and a baseball bat as equalizers. I might need them to subdue Rudy on our own. When we had collected all the items we needed so we headed back. Just to make sure of Rudy’s hours we parked back in our spot across from the shop and I placed a call. A man with a gruff voice answered, “Ted’s Car Care how may I help you?"

  “Yeah”, I asked, “I was wondering if you had time for a tuneup today without an appointment?" He asked me to hold on and shouted. “Hey Rudy, can you squeeze in a tuneup today?” I heard a muffled response and he came back on the line, “sorry hon, we are all booked up.” He explained. I asked him what time they closed and thanked him for his time. The shop closed at 6pm.

  We had agreed to carry out our plan on Friday evening. I looked at my watch. Today is Monday, I thought to myself. It is a little after 4 in the afternoon. We have 4 days work out the details of our plan. I started my truck and drove back to Mo’s.

  I backed my truck into Mo’s garage. She had some nosey old woman across the street that loved to snoop. We unpacked the items we bought. Mo brought out an old army duffel bag from the house and we stuffed it full. I shoved the bag in the king cab of my truck. I still trusted a good Ford F series truck to this day. The only difference between the one and the truck I had back in the day was the king cab. I also did not have the cattle guard like back then.

  As if she read my mind Mo asked, “So how are we going to get this fucker in a ditch if we can’t pit him”? I shrugged and replied “Oh we are going to pit him; I am just a little better at it than all those years ago.” Mo just rolled her eyes and went back in the house returning with a couple of beers, “Maybe this time we do not force him off the road” Mo suggested. “Maybe we just catch him in the parking lot?” I pondered this for a moment before saying “Well, I know from talking with Sabra that he goes out every Friday night. He goes alone because Tiffany works late on Friday.” I continued, “We just have to figure out what bar he goes to.” I knew we would not have the time to carry out what I planned to do to him in the bar parking lot. I told my friend as much.

  Mo looked at me long and hard and said, “You sure you want to go through with this? I mean, you hardly know this woman.” I looked at my old friend and winked. “I’m sure Mo.” We drank our beers silently for a while. I had some time to ponder. Sabra had not asked me to get involved. She did not know what I was planning. I did not want her held liable if we were to be caught. I wondered if she had awakened yet. Glancing at my watch I told my friend I needed to go home and check on Sabra.

  She just responded with a grunt and waved good-bye without comment.

  Chapter 7

  As I drove toward home I thought about what Mo had said.

  Why am I so willing to get into deep trouble over someone I barely know?

  Perhaps it is because I see my younger self in her. I understood her plight. My mother was an alcoholic and my dad beat the crap out of me if I breathed wrong.

  My thoughts carried me back to when I was 17, to the night my father found out I was gay.

  I had been sneaking into and out of my bedroom window night after night to meet with my first real girlfriend. If you were to ask what the term “real girlfriend” I would tell you it meant the first girl I had sex with. Her name was Laura Lockheed.

  Laura was a hard case and had lived a hard life that made her seem much older than her 19 years. She had lived with her older brother Johnny since their parents, Frank and Evelyn, died in a car crash when she was 9 years old. Johnny was 18 when it happened. A drunk driver ran them off a bridge and into the Colorado River. Johnny had been eagerly awaiting his freshman year of college to begin.

  Their parents left the house to them both in the will. John would have to put away his college plans. This disappointed and angered him. His parents had left him strapped with a child to raise.

  Frank had always treated Johnny like his golden child while he barely gave Laura a thought.

  Frank was a man’s man who believed a woman’s place was in the home. To be more specific, in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant. He passed this attitude off to his son.

  John resented Laura and treated her like crap everyday of her life after their parents died. He belittled her and never let a day go by that he did not tell her that she was the reason his life was ruined.

  Nobody knew he was also sexually molesting his baby sister. It started one night when she had been weeping alone in her room. She missed her mom so much. Evelyn Lockheed had been a loving mother. Franks opinion of women meant that she spent her time with Laura. She sheltered and protected her daughter from her father and brother. She was gone now and so was that protection.

  John came in, flipped on the light and started to scream at her, “What the FUCK do YOU have to cry about?” With every word he took a step toward his sister until he was glaring down at her. Laura curled into a tight ball and tried to hold her sobs in.

  John grabbed her and picked her up and threw her full force against the wall.

  Laura’s little head had hit the wall and she fell to the floor, knocked out cold.

  She did not remember much when she woke up the next day. As she came up out of sleep she became aware of a sharp burning pain between her legs. Laura sat up and folded back the covers and had to stick her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming.

  Her gown covered in blood. She did not know what had happened but she knew she should be quiet and not wake John.

  Laura went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror at her forehead that was turning an angry shade of purple. She had bent over the tub to start a bath when a gush of blood ran down her little legs. Terror tore through her like a freight train. She thought she was going to die.

  Laura gently removed her clothes and soaked in the tub for a long time before she heard the doorknob turn.

  John walked in and sat on the toilet and just stared down at the terrified, cold, recoiling child sitting in pink water looking at him with tear filled eyes. In a low almost soft voice he warned, “You ever tell anyone about this and I’ll gut you like a pig.” Laura knew he meant every word. She never told a soul.

  John had continued to rape his little sister for almost a year. Finally someone from school had called the Department of Child Safety because she missed too much school. John had kept her out when his abuse resulted in obvious injury.

  John went to prison and Laura went into foster care. She was past from home to home, sinking deeper into herself.

  When Laura had reached 18 years old she had been raped by her brother many times. The fathers and brothers in seven of the nine foster homes she had lived in raped her as well

  She was good and hard when I met her at 19 years old. She had lived on the street for a while, smoking weed and doing what she had to for survival.

  We met by the fountains at the local mall where I liked to sit and read. She had been sitting staring into the water when I sat down. I did not pay much attention as I was escaping my own little slice of hell by losing myself in a book. I was well on my way into the story when I heard Laura ask, “That a good book?” I looked over the top of the book into the saddest eyes I'd ever seen.

  I answered, “It has its good parts.” I knew instantly we would be friends. Just from looking into her eyes.

  We met at that fountain every day after I got out of school.

  After a month she began to tell me her story and I shared mine. We were each other’s shelter in the storm of life. I had always known I liked girls. Laura did not like anyone. She was so damaged that she clung to the first kind person she met. I had held her while she cried. I kissed her tears away. We just melted into it. Laura had a job and had saved money for a junk car. She had no home but she had that car. She also had me and life was starting to look up. We were both saving money to get our own place. This all came to a screeching halt one fateful night when my father caught me sneaking back into my bedroom window.

  Laura had come to my window and
I had snuck out of my room around midnight on that fateful night.

  We drove out to a secluded spot on Bell Lake and sat close and talked until two. Laura told me she had never thought she would ever love anyone in this world but she had. She had fallen for me. We kissed for what seemed like an eternity. I had learned certain areas that I could not touch when we made out. On this night she leaned and whispered her need into my ear and soon we were in the backseat locked in our love and trust for each other.

  Afterwards we cried and giggled until four a.m. when we decided to head back.

  I kissed her goodnight and she drove away. I did not know my father had been looking out the curtains. There was no way for me to know he had seen the good-bye kiss. Worst of all I did not know that would be the last time I saw her.

  I smiled as I watched her drive away. I could still smell her sweet scent on me as I crawled quietly through my bedroom window. I was lowering the window quietly when the light came on and I saw my father’s face. As he came toward me I realized he could smell her too. He knew I had been with Laura. He grabbed me by the back of my hair and yanked my head to the side. The last I heard before my world went dark was my father’s voice screaming, “JUST WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!” He screamed when he saw the hickey.

  Then he beat me until I lost consciousness.

  Chapter 8

  I pulled into my driveway around seven pm and turned off my truck. I did not realize that somewhere on this trip down memory lane I had been crying. I looked at my swollen puffy eyes in the rearview mirror. I knew I had to help this woman.

  For all the sorrow and pain I had been through I never had a champion. I was determined I would be Sabras’ champion.

  I was turning the key in my door when I smelled the aroma of bacon coming from inside my house.

  As I entered I saw Sabra sitting on my kitchen counter poking at frying bacon with a wooden spoon.

  “I see your feeling better kiddo”.

  Sabra hopped down off the counter holding her ribs with one hand and the spoon in the other. She looked much better than when I left her this morning.