Sins of the Mother

by B K Johnson

  “My friend Rod is with them right now, trying to find out what they’ve learned in the last 24 hours. His father is a close friend of the police chief, so if anyone can get undisclosed information pried loose out him, it is Rod. I’ll find out what’s new when I get back to his house tonight,” Tommy responded.

  As much as Loke had found out about Rod, she was not privy to the fact that his father was the police chief’s friend. Feeling a little unnerved, but nevertheless committed to her course of action, she feigned interest in the developing investigation. She’d done everything she could to throw them off the track, and was convinced she’d have enough time at least to carry out the last act of her plan of revenge.

  What she also didn’t know as well was that Tommy was paying more attention to the many turns through side streets, now that they had reached Kailua. Tommy had dated a young man while in law school who lived in Kailua, and although it had been 10 years since she’d been down these streets, she was pretty familiar with the neighborhoods they were running through. A few times she’d noticed that Loke turned right and then left, and seemed to be traveling in little circles. Shaking herself, Tommy threw off the unsettling vibes and put them down to her lapsed memory of the cul-de-sacs and side streets, whose names tended to sound alike in the limited Hawaiian alphabet.

  Finally, she asked, “Didn’t we pass that street before? It seems to me like it is taking a pretty long time to go from Kaneohe to your house in Kailua. Is it much further?”

  Realizing her mistake in trying to throw Tommy off in the unlikely event she was able to escape and tell anyone where she’d been taken, Loke soothed, “Oh, we are nearly there. And that street travels a few miles through Kailua, so you may have seen the name when we crossed it once before. Some of the streets are pretty winding, which is why I thought it would be easier for you to come in my car.”

  Only minutes later, Loke pulled up in front of an innocuous-looking pink home with a small lanai in front that was lit. All that Tommy could make out of the address were the numbers 462. Loke brightly said, “We’re here. I am so proud to welcome you to my home.” She opened and closed the driver’s side door and approached the sidewalk, looking back to make sure Tommy was right behind her.

  Just as they neared the lanai, Tommy stopped abruptly and said, “Oh, shit. I forgot my purse. Can you unlock the car so I can retrieve it?”

  Loke answered her, saying “We don’t have to lock our cars here. Go ahead and get it.” Loke stood waiting on the steps while Tommy returned to the vehicle and opened the door, allowing the light to come on to show her the bag. Loke couldn’t believe it took Tommy so long to simply retrieve the purse, and she was not even aware that in her impatience, she was tapping her tiny little foot on the bottom step of the porch.

  At last, Tommy reached her and waited while Loke unlocked the door. Loke held the door open for Tommy to enter. Tommy started to say, “What a lovely home,” when a sharp pain jabbed her in the back of her head, and she tumbled unwillingly to the hall floor, her purse falling after her.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  “Wake up you stupid bitch.” These were the first words Tommy heard as cold water splashed all over her face and body. Chilled, she shook her head to clear the cobwebs from it, and tried to open her eyes. Her entire body felt foreign to her, sluggish and immobile. Attempting to raise her head to focus on the woman yelling at her, she felt afraid for the first time in a long while. She had no strength, no fight in her. Yet she knew somewhere deep down she was in danger, and needed to respond with a strong defense to protect herself. Tommy had no idea why, after her years of training and toning every muscle in her body, it was failing her now.

  At last she lifted her head sufficiently to allow her eyes to roam around her body. She was uncomfortably slumped over in a wheelbarrow, her hands and feet duct-taped together. Looking for the culprit, Tommy impaled Loke with flashing jade eyes. “What the hell have you done to me, and why?”

  Loke stepped back from Tommy, unsettled by those angry stares coming her way. Even though she knew Tommy was incapacitated, she was not yet prepared to deal with such a hostile force. She’d had to roll Tommy from her hallway floor into the wheelbarrow, which she’d had to lay on its side. Righting it up took a great deal of effort. Only then could she transport the heavier and long-limbed woman to the garage.

  Chanting one of Pele’s mantras to herself, Loke planted her feet a good yard away from Tommy. She then responded, “Well, it’s about time you came to. I tried slapping you but you were still comatose.” Giggling, she continued. “Thorazine is one of those lovely medicines I came into contact with at Kaneohe. I managed to appropriate quite a supply from the hospital before I convinced an old shrink to sign my release papers. It was about time I was allowed to leave the mental ward there, and I made sure I was well compensated for time spent. I have a bountiful supply of drugs, so if I were you, I’d shut the fuck up and do what I ask.”

  “God,” thought Tommy, gradually coming to. She thought how her brother had told stories of how awful Thorazine was, and how many people in the psychiatric ward at Vacaville State Correctional Facility walked with the Thorazine shuffle. Many of them had already lost their minds along with the use of their bodies. The whole purpose in using the drug was to make inmates docile. “At least now I know why I can’t fight this duct tape on my hands, and my mind is a jumble of incomplete thoughts,” Tommy reflected.

  Prior to acknowledging Loke’s threat, Tommy looked around the room she was in, noticing her jacket and shorts on a chair, and Dave’s clothing on another. There was some kind of shrine to Pele set up around the legs of the chairs. This brought Tommy’s inspection of her surroundings to see that the floor was cement. Something was moving slightly in the periphery of her vision. Only then did she Dave’s long body chained to a hook bolted into the cement. The sight of him lying there like an animal, diapered but otherwise naked, shocked her to her very core.

  Shaken with anger and fear for Dave’s well-being, she demanded in a rapid sequence, “Why is Dave here and held like that? You said you didn’t know where he was. How long has he been here? Dave, are you okay?”

  “He can’t talk right now, my dear,” replied Loke. If you will but look to his face, you will see that his mouth has the same duct tape over it that you have on your wrists and ankles. It’s a very effective tool, don’t you think?” she challenged Tommy.

  “If you have harmed him in any way, I will kill you.” Tommy said stonily. “And don’t think just because you drug and tape me up that I won’t find a way to do it.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt but that you will try to get loose. That’s why we’re going to change your position right now. Duct tape is good only for so long, but chains? Why do you think they used them on slaves, and still use them on convicts when they travel from the prisons to court hearings? And chains are just what the doctor ordered for you, too, my dear Tommy.” With these taunts, Loke quickly took the handles of the wheelbarrow and dumped Tommy out of it onto the cold floor.

  Tommy’s head hit first, and her taped-up hands were useless to break her fall. Her knees crashed just after her head split open and blood poured from the wound. Her left hip and her bound feet made contact, jarring her entire being. The fall hadn’t dimmed her mind more than the Thorazine already had, and she was well aware of the sticky blood running down her face and into her eyes. She attempted to raise her hands to wipe the blood from them, so she could see again. But tiny, fast feet stomped on her wrists.

  “I’ll wipe up the blood, dearest Tommy, and let you in on why Dave is in my custody, but only if you agree to do one thing, and do it right this minute.”

  Loke continued to keep her thonged feet on Tommy’s hands until Tommy brought her head around to look up at her and question, “What? I’m in no mood for fun and games, you stupid ho. Get your fucking feet off my hands, and tell me what you want. Then we’ll see whether I’ll agree or not.”

  Tommy was accustomed to being held
hostage, having been tormented by her older brother Jerome in just such situations. She well knew that you can’t show any fear. You can’t bargain, cajole or threaten your way out of such a hostage situation. But if you exhibit any nervousness, or your fear is palpable, coming off your body in waves, your tormentor will only feel that much more superior, and your suffering will increase in direct proportion to the amount of terror he/she can make you experience. That was why she took this approach with Loke now, not because she was bold and brave and assured of her own success in defending herself or rescuing Dave.

  Somewhat addled by Tommy’s refusal to succumb to threats and pain, Loke shook her head from side to side, trying to figure out what approach was most likely to work on this uncowed female. “I want you to get up, and move over to that chair,” demanded Loke, pointing to a larger metal chair bolted to the floor a few yards from the end of Dave’s feet. It would be a perfect place, as far as Loke was concerned, in which to confine Tommy, so she would have a good view of everything yet to come. Loke knew Tommy would never give her the confession she sought if only she herself were threatened or tortured. But Dave, now? That was a horse of a different color.

  Not seeing that this was too great a request, and not thinking of an alternative at the moment, Tommy rolled to her side, and brought her bound hands up over her head, and her knees up toward her chest. Using her hands to push her body up, she managed to get into a semi-push up position on her knees, which were quite painful. From there it was a fairly simple, but uncomfortable maneuver to get her duct-taped feet flat on the floor and to raise herself up to a standing position. She wasn’t sturdy or balanced, but she was standing.

  Watching this supreme effort, Loke was amazed that Tommy could do all of this without help. It made her that much more aware of Tommy’s strengths and confirmed that she was a formidable opponent. Loke reached for the gun lying on the counter nearest her, and held it pointing at Tommy. “Don’t get any bright ideas, Tommy. I’ll shoot you in the knees first, and then you can watch me shoot Dave in the head.”

  Chastened, Tommy looked back at Loke and said, “Just leave him alone. He is a wonderful man, and he loved you. Why, I’ll never know. But it seems to me that I’m the one you want, for whatever reason, so you could just let him go and deal with me. Or if you’re afraid he’d talk, and get the police to come here to rescue me, just put him to bed for a while so he can recuperate. He looks done in.”

  “Well, “sighed Loke, “ you’re quite right. I want you, and you alone, to tell me what I want to hear. Dave is just a prop, you might say. Or rather, motivation for you to behave and be compliant. Do you understand me, Tommy? He will suffer if you misbehave or play mute to my questions.”

  “I understand,” Tommy gasped, nodding. The blood from her forehead was running down her face and was beginning to drip on the floor now.

  Swiveling the gun unfalteringly to be aimed at Dave’s head, Loke said “Move your ass toward that chair and sit in it.” Tommy reluctantly hobbled over to the chair and fell into it. Loke rushed over to wend the chains around Tommy’s ankles and waist and hands, securing them with the same locks used by prison guards when transporting prisoners. One lock was placed around the ankles, one around the hands, and one around the waist. Tommy watched the whole process, having gulped in a huge amount of air and holding her breath as Loke worked. Further, Tommy assessed the gun Loke had laid down on the garage floor to enable her to truss Tommy’s bonds. It was a Colt Detective Special, six shot 38 caliber revolver. It was made of blue steel, with black plastic grips, and had a 2” barrel. It was not a great weapon, and had a notorious reputation for requiring a number of shots in some instances before a victim could be killed. However, that was only some times. Tommy cemented this information in her mind, as she had all other observations made to date.

  Securely fastened as far as Loke was concerned, she then ripped the duct tape from Tommy’s hands and feet. Tommy jumped at the instant pain, but held back her cry.

  “What, didn’t that hurt even a little bit?” Loke asked? And so she slapped Tommy as hard as she could, and then left the room to go get a towel to wipe the blood from her body, clothes, and floor. Tommy finally let out her breath and tested how much slack she had managed to gain in the chains. Satisfied that there was some mobility, however limited, Tommy then looked over at Dave and caught a sob up in her throat. “Dave, are you all right? Are you awake? Are you drugged? How much has she hurt you?”

  The only response from Dave to Tommy’s questioning was a high, incessant squeal of terror from behind the duct tape securely fastened across his mouth.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  “Shut up” ordered Loke, when she returned to the garage. She quickly sopped the blood off of Tommy’s face.

  Tommy said “Thanks, bitch.” and Loke laughed.

  “I’m not doing this for your comfort. I just need you to see and remember. With blood in your eyes you won’t be able to.” With that she grabbed a picture off of a countertop, and held it in front of Tommy’s face.

  “Look familiar?” she questioned. Then she held the picture up to her own face. “This is my boy, my son, my only child, Kekoa Cabotaje. And you got him killed. Exactly what role you played I don’t know yet, but I will find out. You are the last of his murderers, and I intend to make you pay.”

  Tommy remained quiet for quite a long time, looking from the picture to Loke’s face. She closed her eyes and remembered the solemn, angry youth she had represented as guardian ad litem in her last year of law school. Throughout their association, which lasted six months, Tommy had promised Kekoa not to tell his real mother anything about his sexuality. He had explained that his surrogate mother, Maile, who raised him, knew of his love for one man. She also accepted him, and quietly assented whenever he stressed to her that he was not gay, but that he was in love. It didn’t matter to Maile. Kekoa was her son in all respects, and as such deserved her unconditional love.

  His mother, Loke, was another story. Tommy met her only once, quite briefly, at Kekoa’s sentencing. She’d looked quite different then, younger, more beautiful, long gorgeous hair, and hard eyes. Kekoa was given one year at Koolau, the juvenile youth authority at the time. The judge, Hisao Yamamoto, sternly admonished the young man to curb his anger, and required him to attend daily anger management classes at the youth facility. The District Attorney, Larry Young, had argued for a much longer sentence, and originally had requested that Kekoa be tried as an adult. He was close to 18, and the severity of the damage to his victim justified this in Young’s mind. It was only the forceful argument of Kekoa’s attorney, Julie Olson, and Tommy’s impassioned plea for leniency that swayed the Judge to reject the argument that Kekoa be tried as an adult. It had been a crime of passion, after all, not planned.

  Many of the arguments took place in chambers, away from the accused and his family. Tommy attended them, as did Ms. Olson, so in effect, Kekoa had two representatives. One was charged with defending him according to the law, and the other was to make sure that his wishes, as a juvenile, were respected. Tommy repeatedly cautioned the Judge, and both attorneys, that they refrain from using the words homosexual or mahu in the courtroom. She explained at the outset that Kekoa viewed himself as a normal teenager, he just happened to be in love with his kumu hula.

  Kekoa had sworn to Tommy, “This is the only sexual relationship in my life, Tommy, and I live for it. I like women, but just as friends. And no other man causes me to catch my breath, or become erect. Only Leleo.”

  Tommy was at liberty, having been given permission by Kekoa, to explain some of this to the Judge and attorneys. He wanted them to understand that what he saw as defending his honor in attacking his tormentor was provoked by taunts that belied his true self. What Kekoa did not want Tommy to share, and explicitly got Tommy to promise to keep secret from anyone else, especially his birth mother, was that the love of his life was Leleo.

  Loke had been adamant that Kekoa be raised a heterosexual. Whenever his mo
ther showed up at Maile’s house over the years, she drilled Kekoa about his relationships. As he entered puberty, she pressed him. “Why are you not dating all the pretty girls in your school, or in the halau?” When he traveled with the halau to Japan a few times, Loke’d kept constant watch over Kekoa and pushed various young girls his way.

  Kekoa responded, “You know, Auntie Loke, that with school and all the rehearsals and travels with the halau that I don’t have the time for dates.”

  Why his heterosexuality was so important to her, Kekoa did not know. He only knew that if his mother found out about his affair with Leleo, she would not hesitate to punish him and kill Leleo. While Loke revered Leleo as her kumu hula, and respected him immensely regardless of his homosexuality, he was not her son. And she firmly believed that Leleo saw Kekoa as the son he would never have. Not once would it have occurred to Loke that Leleo would take Kekoa to his bed. She would see that as a complete abuse of his power over Kekoa as his kumu hula.

  Reminiscing took place in Tommy’s mind while she acknowledged that Kekoa looked a great deal like the woman standing before her. Including the angry stare. Now she knew why this person looked so familiar to her. And she remembered having seen her with much longer hair at Judge Olson’s memorial service, when Tommy’s body had become chilled by her observer’s stare. Tommy was overwhelmed with sadness, which thankfully allowed her not to show fear as she said, “I am so sorry for your loss. I never had the chance to say that to you personally after Kekoa killed himself, but he was a very promising and handsome young man.”