by Marie Marini
It was about 11:30 p.m., I was hoping to be out of here by 12:30. The place shuts down at two, so it was prime time. While Meat was getting a drink, two other losers hit on me. I would be better off just taking an Uzi to this place. Get rid of all of these cockroaches in one go. I must have been making a face when Meat came back. He asked what was up. I told him I got hit on and he was ready to fight for my honor. He wanted me to tell him who it was. I tried to keep up the game but God it was getting harder to deal with this place, these people. I needed to stay on mission, stay focused.
Meat sat down and we talked a little, kissed a little, talked a little more. He was definitely getting woozy. I needed to finish the job. I rested my hand on his thigh and when we started making out again I ran my hand up to rub his groin, he was ready to play and his jeans must have been killing him. He seemed to be pretty chunky in more place than one…hmm. While I was distracting him, I stuck another patch on him. I only had another half hour, tops, so I excused myself and went to the restroom. Of course, there was a line. I didn’t have time to wait. Sure enough, when I got back, he was slumping in the chair. I told him it was time to go and helped him out of the chair. When we got outside the fresh air hit him like a Mack truck and he almost went down. I steered him onto the side street. By this time he was slurring his words and was confused. I was going to have to leave him here and go get the truck. I didn’t think he could walk that far. I helped him sit on the curb and told him I would be right back and that I would take him home.
I really didn’t want to get the old ambulance this close to the club for fear someone would see and remember something, but I had made the commitment to him now and I had to see it through. I couldn’t have some guy wake up with patches on him who could describe me. I ran to the next street. I jumped in the truck and within seconds I was pulling into the side street. I couldn’t see him. Where did he go? Fuck! I was panicking. This was bad!
I drove the length of the street and he wasn’t there. I doubled back and drove slower. There was an alley in the back of the club that backed on to this street, I drove the alley and found him passed out with his dick in his hand. It looked like he went to take a pee and didn’t quite make it. The alley might have been a stroke of luck after all. I loaded him in the back and strapped him down just in case he woke up and got scared. As I pulled out of the alley a police car made a right turn into the side street where I had originally left him. I made a left away from the cop car and carefully made my way out of the area. When I got a few miles from the club I parked and checked on Meat. He was out, but it would be a bit of a ride to Bean City from here. I started an IV and hooked him up to a morphine drip. We used this all the time in the hospital to keep someone under. I just wasn’t sure if he would be okay with this on top of the alcohol and the patches, so I removed the patches carefully and disposed of them. While I had the chance, I peed in the sharps box and took that damn wig off. Everything had gone to plan. I did it! It worked! I had myself some prime meat if his jeans were any indication of what I had to work with AND I had myself an anatomy and physiology experiment.
It was going to be an amazing weekend.
Kris was away for the weekend with some girlfriends in Atlanta. She had told me she went to school there before her adoption but was a bit sketchy on the details. Truth be told she never gave any details. After our ‘almost’ moment I have been trying to figure out how to create the perfect moment for us. I want it to be perfect and although her idea of romance is Olive Garden and corny movies and mine is a bit flashier, I’ll find a way to give her what she wants and still make it special. I was falling in love. I knew it and I didn’t care, I couldn’t stop it. If Kris was available, I would blow off my Friday night with the boys to be with her. If she called, I would drop whatever I was doing or planning to be with her.
Steph called to complain that I never call her anymore and to say that the girls missed me. Guilt trip! So while Kris was out of town I thought I would drive over to the west coast and see my girls. When I told Kris my plan she was distracted, she has been like that a lot recently. She claims that it’s just school. She’s going into her last semester and is anxious about the NCLEX State nursing exam. I told her I understood but I swear I will be glad when school is done and she is back to just one shift every four days. I was chewing all this over on the drive. I had been dating Kris for six months now and celibacy was killing me. I respect slow but this was ridiculous. All these thoughts tumbled around in my head when my cell phone rang. I answered using the blue tooth hands free, the radio cut out and the unmistakable rumble of John Holbert filled the car.
It was good to hear his voice. “How is the lovely Teresa?” I asked, “Still putting up with your grouchy old ass?”
“God Bless her. She is a Saint I tell you.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“And your cherubs? Has David finished his degree yet?” David was his oldest grandchild and smart as a whip. He was an honor student in middle school and a huge computer nerd. John laughed and told me about David winning the school chess tournament. “Pammy and Tammy will be the death of me. They started wearing bras and I don’t know if I’m supposed to pretend nothing changed or say something. What the hell do you say to your ten-year-old granddaughters about a thing like that?” John sighed.
“When you figure it out let me know, I have a bit of time with Josephine and Julianna but the day is coming.. It’ll be good to know how to walk that mine field. What about that tough little nut Alan?” Alan was John’s youngest grandchild. John adored him. Alan was only four and the most easy-going kid you could ever meet.
“I took him fishing last week, just the two of us. That kid baited his own hooks. He caught a large mouth bass, just a little one but he was so proud. You should have seen his face. I have pictures. I’ll send you one.”
“I’d love that John. I’m driving over to Nokomis to see my own little monsters. Juliet is insisting on being called Jules now. Josephina, of course, needs to change her name too so she is now Josie but she keeps forgetting and has to ask Jules what her name is. So damn cute. So hard not to let them see me laugh.”
We chatted for a while and eventually conversation wound around to Darren Mayhew as we both knew it would. It ate at him that it was his last case and we still had no leads, no suspects. I knew he was going to say it and I silently begged him not to, but he did.
“Except for Kris.”
She was the only connection we had. I had purposely not told John about my relationship with Kris, but I’m pretty sure he knew we were getting serious. He asked about some of the guys at work and we ended the conversation a little awkwardly, but not hostile. John is one of the best investigators we ever had and I have always trusted his ‘Spidey’ sense, but this time he was wrong. There is no way Kris was involved in Darren’s death. She’s a paramedic and a nurse, or would be soon. She cares for people. After all the time we’ve spent together, I would have known if there was something by now.
I got Meat back to the trailer. He was zonked on the morphine drip but he was heavy and difficult to maneuver. It took me a little while and I was sweating when I finally got him in the door. I had to disconnect the drip for a little while to do this so I was scared he would wake up.
I had everything ready to surgically sever the spinal cord. I had already decided to go a little lower than with Darren and let him have some mobility in his upper body. Such a shame I couldn’t let him have movement in his lower body and paralyze the top part. But that’s not how the human body works. I could always tie him down if I had to but if he could move a bit I wouldn’t have to feed him and he could help a bit when we had to move him. There are a lot of decisions when you undertake something like this. It’s very stressful.
I reconnected the IV and used the newly improved harness system to get him up and over to the massage table. I stripped him and his girth was impressive, we would see about length later. I laid him face d
own on the table and cranked the morphine up a bit. Without knowing his actual weight, I had to guess all the drug calculations and then adjust as needed. I could only get one vial of expired morphine from the fire department. We use vials of expired drugs to train the new recruits. I don’t know how potent it is after the expiration date, but I got what I needed. This was great practice for me for drug calculations without anyone looking over my shoulder and double checking everything. I was learning already.
I cut into his neck with my scalpel, this time I had a better idea of how deep I had to cut and how much pressure to use and it went smoother. He groaned a little and I decided I had best restrain his arms and legs just in case. I slapped a fentanyl patch on his ass at the same time. Couldn’t hurt. If I could sever the spinal cord at the 4th thoracic I could render him paraplegic. He wouldn’t feel anything below the nipples. He would be able to use his arms normally which would mean I would have to be careful around him and make sure I never leave anything dangerous in reach. I could always go back and cut higher if he became troublesome.
After the surgery, I dressed the site and put a surgical collar on him. I used the harness again to get him to the bed. I tied rope around his left wrist then looped it behind him to tie his right wrist then looped it around in front of him across his belly back to the left wrist. I did the same thing just above the elbows. Normally the rope would dig into your back and be uncomfortable but he wouldn’t be able to feel that. Confident that he was immobilized, I went to make dinner. I had a nice piece of salmon I put on the grill while I cooked up some rice. I thought Meat might still be a little nauseous, but I saved him a little bit in case he was hungry. After I ate dinner and cleaned up, he was still snoring. It was time for me to have some fun.
What guy didn’t want to wake up to some hot chick riding him? I went into the bedroom and got to work on Meat. He really didn’t want to cooperate and I was getting frustrated. Even after 10 minutes, he was floppy and still snoring. I know it was the alcohol. I never had this problem with Darren. I only had the weekend before I would have to juggle Jesus, work and all of this so I was impatient for him to wake up and play. I had to put a diaper on him in case he messed the bed while he slept. I sat and watched him for a couple of hours until his breathing changed a bit and he seemed to be coming around. FINALLY! I removed the diaper and went to work with my mouth this time and was getting much better results. He was thick and was starting to respond when I saw his eyes open a little. He dozed off again a couple of times and when he finally came to, I was sitting on him. He was deep inside me and I was riding him like a rodeo bull. I was holding the rope that looped across his belly and leaning back to get him as deep as he would go. I saw the look in his eye the moment he realized what was going on. What a way to wake up right? Then he realized he was tied down and I know that turned him on. He almost came right there. I had to slow it down to make it last.
We had a lot of fun that night. He was really into it and it and begged me to untie him. Eventually, I sat on his face because he kept asking me to. I didn’t really know what he meant to do until he did and Oh My God. I didn’t know about this! This was new to me and amazing! I orgasmed on his face and he was delighted. What a weird guy.
When we finally wore each other out we both fell asleep. He woke up first and when I woke up, he was freaking out a little. He said he couldn’t feel his legs and he was panicking about the ropes. He had peed the bed, but I don’t think he noticed. I told him I would explain everything and it would be okay, but I had to make breakfast first.
I brought in a basin of warm water and cleaned him up, then he saw the diaper and started to freak out again. I ended up giving him a Xanax before I could even talk to him. Geez! The pill helped chill him out a bit, but he was still freaked out. I explained that he was now paraplegic and what that meant. It was important that as a nurse I could talk to patients in a very straightforward way. I needed to be honest and tell him the limitations he would now have and allow him to process that and ask any questions he had. I thought it went well until he started thrashing around the bed. I stuck a fentanyl patch on him and waited for it to take effect. It is common for people facing these kinds of lifestyle changes to have a hard time accepting the new normal.
It was great to reconnect with Steph and Doc. Usually, I was the babysitter and they got to have date night. This time Steph had arranged for a babysitter. Now that the girls weren’t strictly babies, she felt more comfortable hiring the neighborhood babysitter Diahanne, a sixteen-year-old who was saving for robotics camp. Super smart and super nerdy, the girls loved her. It was nice to go out with Steph and Doc for dinner and watch the sunset over a glass of wine. Steph was desperate to meet Kris and begged me to bring her over some weekend. She was trying hard to nail me down to a date, but I couldn’t commit without talking to Kris.
“Call her! Call her now and set it up!” She wouldn’t let it go. For my part, I was desperate to call her. I know I promised I wouldn’t call but I just wanted to hear her voice and Steph could be so persuasive.
“Okay, okay,” I finally relented. “I’ll step out and call her. I don’t want her to feel she can’t say no because I’m sitting here with you and Doc.”
I took my glass of wine and wandered down the boardwalk a little ways from the table towards the pier. I was thinking I shouldn’t call her, but I was all caught up in Steph’s excitement so I called anyway. It rang. And rang. Just before voicemail kicked in she picked up.
“Why are you calling me Jesus?” She was whispering and she was furious. Immediately I felt like a jerk. Why was I calling?
I stuttered some lame ass reply.
“I’ll see you when I get home, I asked for just one weekend. Is that so much to ask? Do NOT call me!”
I apologized and hung up. She was right, I had promised. She only wanted some time to blow off steam with old friends. Why couldn’t I give her that? As I walked back to the table, I realized how quiet the background was. If she was with her girlfriends at 9 o’clock on a Saturday night, why was it so quiet? Shouldn’t they be downtown at some pub or club or something? Was she cheating on me? I plastered a fake smile on my face that I knew Steph and Doc could see right through and made my way back to the table.
“Voice mail,” I said weakly.
On Sunday morning I got up early and made breakfast for everyone. Mickey Mouse pancakes for my girls. Slices of melon, bananas sliced down the side and blueberries. Half a strawberry makes a great nose. After breakfast, I got the girls on their bikes and jogged alongside them as we went through the neighborhood to the local park. Once at the park, we raced to the swings. Of course, they beat me. I was exhausted from jogging. It was a fun morning and exactly what I needed to distract me from the whispered admonition of the night before. There was no such distraction on the way home in the car, I had a three-and-a-half-hour drive to analyze every nuance of her voice and conjure up all kinds of horrific reasons for the silence in the background. By the time I got home, I had convinced myself she was cheating.
Exhausted and dispirited I fell into my work. I was working on a disturbing manslaughter case. A husband killed his wife when he found her cheating on him with his brother. The husband was retired military and had no problem restraining both of them before he slit their throats. He made no attempt to hide it or to run from law enforcement when they responded to 911 calls from neighbors who heard screams. By the time the cops got there, he had systematically removed his brother’s sexual organs and was carving his wife’s breast off with a kitchen knife. He stopped when ordered, put the knife down quietly and gave himself up without incident.
I arrived on scene as he was being taken to the car. He was calm, disassociated. He stated that he understood he was under arrest and why. He explained in short military style sentences exactly what had occurred. When I started researching the husband. Turns out he had been honorably discharged from the military after three tours in the middl
e east. During the last tour he took a bullet by a sniper and lost his spleen and a lot of blood. He came home and struggled to adapt to a life without the strict routine he was used to. He suspected his wife had been with someone else in his absence and this was another stressor for him. His world was ordered by rules. There had to be rules and there had to be enforcers of the rules. He came home to a society that didn’t respect rules. The escalating gun violence, kids shot by cops, cops shot by kids, school shootings. He was struggling to understand what he had been fighting to defend.
I could relate. I also liked to live in a world of reason, rules and order. When you take all that away what happens? What if we can act on every impulse? What if there is no conscience? What would any of us do if we could act out every time we got angry or frustrated or scared? I made a note to talk to the behavioral science people to help me with this case. I know I shouldn’t but I felt sorry for this soldier.
It wasn’t going well with Meat. I had to keep him tied down, but he was strong. When he was knocked out, I reinforced the ropes and put some padding in there. He was furious all the time. I tried to be patient. I explained in my best nursing voice over and over again what had happened and what would happen next. The thing I didn’t take into consideration when I cut his spinal cord was that he could breathe and talk properly. That meant he could make a lot of noise! I wasn’t worried about anyone hearing him, not out here in Bean City. Even if someone did they wouldn’t do anything. Since he was so strong-minded and stubborn it got me thinking about the human psyche and what it would take to break him. How much pain can a body take before the mind shuts down? He refused to eat and fought me every chance he got. He wouldn’t last long anyway. Sex was no fun when he was spitting at me and cursing me out the whole time. I put a pillow case over his head to stop the spitting. The cursing was a bit of a turn on, so I allowed that to continue. He called me the dirtiest names, stuff I had never heard before. I couldn’t let him see that I liked it or he would have stopped. My favorite was when he called me a dried up fucked up psycho cunt. It was hard not to laugh because I was anything but dried up.