She took notes and wrote, planning the next days experiments while she listened to Lucas and his feverish cries. Then she came up with a plan for Russell. She curled up and wrote about Marcy, and how she should be eviscerated. Then she wrote a particularly small note about how she agreed her temper was not under control.
Lucas was lost in dreams; his nightmarish memories flickered past him in a dance. They slowed. Jaspierre was in his room. He was lying on his white bed with his white sheets and his cock in his hand. She was standing there, in his room. She stood there, right before he had finished, asking him what he was doing. He asked her to come see, and she tiptoed in wearing a tight, teal dress asking what masturbation was, with her pretty innocent eyes. Then her silver panties hit the floor. He wanted her so badly. Her face was smeared with blood, and the kitten cried nearby. She tripped and fell walking to his bed. Then she looked up at him with those scissors left in the back of the woman she was stabbing, and she charged at him. Lucas screamed.
Jaspierre stopped writing, and glanced up at him. She glanced at the clock. Not yet time for more meds. She wondered, for the first time, what she would do if he died. They had been together for so long. Even though he didn’t choose her, she chose him. She loved him, she supposed. That was the only reason she could think of for why she stopped trying to kill him. And taking his toes in the name of science wasn’t pleasant. She considered her regrets about killing Katie. She had done it in such a fit of rage. Lucas was different she couldn’t seem to summon up that kind of anger. Maybe it was because he seemed so vulnerable. Both Katie and he had killed her cats. They deserved the same brutal punishment. Mother could beat, maim, and kill emotionlessly. What was wrong with Jaspierre that she couldn’t do the same? Her emotions controlled her, despite her efforts to ignore them.
Lucas was special. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. She had been alone so long. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. This was the moment she decided she would never kill him.
*** Sixteen Years Earlier ***
Jaspierre was the quietest little eleven-year-old anyone had ever met. She never raised her hand in class. In spite of this, she did not miss a single day of school. She got excellent grades.
After school, she would bike home and change into a suit and high heels. Then she would pack her homework into a briefcase and take a chauffeured car to work. Her staff would open the door for her, carry her briefcase, and inform her of the details of the day. She would walk into her office, read papers, and demand the board sign them. She, being eleven, could not sign any documents herself, though in a pinch, she’d still sign Mother’s name. The board did most of the heavy lifting, she was the yes or no person.
Mother had set it up this way years earlier so Jaspierre could easily run everything. Mother never did enjoy working. She was eager to pass the company on as soon as possible. Jaspierre had been attending board meetings since she was five. One of her first jobs as a five-year-old was to sign Mother’s name to forms and paychecks. She’d practice for hours until Mother finally said it was good enough. Mother hated signing forms. She was expected to think and listen and ask good questions or she would be beaten. By seven she had learned quite a bit about running a company, and quite a bit more about how to avoid beatings. If Kyller and Co made more money, she got hit less frequently. It was an excellent motivator.
After her evening meetings, she would sit and do her homework quietly. Her secretary always brought her dinner. Her company was doing well. Everyone was so used to working with her, they rarely thought of her as a young child. It was screwed up, her working so hard, but whatever kept the honey flowing. Mother had fired any early protests to Jasp being present and making decisions.
After dinner, she would get in her chauffeured car and go home. Once she she climbed out of the car, her staff would carry her briefcase to her room and cater to her every wish. The house was immaculate, and the staff was enormous; eight gardeners, two maids, one chauffeur, one butler, and one full-time chef. The chef generally cooked for the staff, there were never any guests. The staff had been whispering that they hadn’t seen Mother in a long while. But Jaspierre was often too tired to listen in at this point in the day.
Her only true friend in the world, a female serval, curled up on her bed every night, and licked her, and purred with her. She rarely had nightmares when Rainbow slept with her. Jaspierre pulled her cat close and held her. Tears bubbled down her face. “I don’t know how long I can do this. The company is going fine, I am passing classes at school, but there are so many decisions to be made.” She sobbed into Rainbow’s fur. “I have no friends, except for you, Rainbow. Well, you and Chance, I guess, but he’s kind of mean.”
The cat licked her face and tried to console the tired, sobbing child. Lights went out in the hall, and Jaspierre stood up and peeked out. The staff had gone to their rooms at eight as always. She walked to her mother’s room and stepped inside. The food cart sat with plenty of food. Jaspierre wrote a note, as she always did, typing it up on Mother’s computer.
The spaghetti was disgusting. Never make it again. You better be feeding my daughter better shit than this. I am nearly at a breakthrough and will be traveling to Rome for the month of April. As always Jaspierre is in charge, and if I hear any of you have argued with her you, will be fired on the spot.
The note was unsigned. After it printed Jaspierre signed her mother’s name. Then she sat and signed all of the paychecks for the next four weeks. She took the food and stirred it around, and set a plate on the floor for Rainbow to nibble.
Jaspierre ate the small fruit salad sitting on the desk while the cat ate a meatball. “I think this one is good. Sounds like her.” Jasp smiled at the cat. “I think we should change your name. I’m not seven anymore. Rainbow seemed like such a great name at the time. I could shorten it to Rain… I hate when people shorten my name. I wish I could get a new name as easily as a cat.”
She kissed her cat and petted it again. “I don’t know, though. It is your name; that’s an important part of who you are. Even if you don’t like it… sometimes especially if you don’t like it.”
In the morning the chef made her pancakes. She ate with no enthusiasm. She hated school. It was the worst part of the day.
She took her packed lunch and rode off on her bike. She could take the car. And she did if it was too snowy or rainy. Taking the car made her stand out like a sore thumb. She would almost rather take the bus. But the last time she took the bus, Chance pulled her hair. Chance was a jerk, but also her only friend.
She pedaled her bike. Her mother had bought her a bike with a small electric motor so she could go at a good pace with little effort. Jaspierre hadn’t ridden that bike in years, though. Instead, she was riding a blue bike that was old and tired-looking. The first time she saw it, leaning on a dumpster, set to go to the dump, she knew it was perfect for her. Nobody would call her a rich bastard with a tired old bike like this one.
That insult was the worst because she couldn’t even argue. “You don’t have a dad. That makes you a bastard.” Well, it wasn’t quite true, everyone had a dad. But she’d rather they thought she had no dad than hear the truth. The truth was far worse than anyone would have guessed.
She stopped thinking, and parked her bike, not bothering to chain it. Into class she walked, and sat quietly in her usual spot.
Her teacher called her out into the hallway. “Jaspierre, I have been trying to reach your mother. Parent teacher conferences are coming up, and I need to speak with her.”
“Didn’t you get her last note? She is going to Rome. She can’t make it.”
“Yes, I did. I need to hold a conversation with her.” Jaspierre did not like where this was going one bit.
“What did you want to talk with her about?”
“Well, about you.” The teacher paused, not willing to reveal more.
“What about me?” The little eleven-year-old was not in a business suit and could not fire anyone she didn’t like. She
was at school. She was frustrated.
The teacher looked at the small girl with concern. “Are you okay? When is the last time you saw your own mother?”
Jaspierre recoiled. She closed her eyes, clenching her fist. “My mother is fine.”
“When have you last seen her? As far as I can tell, she hasn’t been at any school meeting, parent-teacher conference, or school sign-up or any event at all in years. She won’t return my phone calls.”
The blood rushed to her ears. She could almost see everything crashing before her eyes. And it did.
Two weeks later, she was in court. She knew she was in serious trouble, probably about to go to prison for hiding that Mother was missing. Was that what they did to children? Maybe she would have to go to an orphanage. Or maybe they would send her to foster care. What if they sold her kitty?
“How long has your mother been missing?”
Jaspierre stood at the little microphone, reporters buzzing about. “I…” She paused. “I think you already know.”
Jaspierre sat and looked at her hands.
The judge turned to Jaspierre. “But how could she be missing for three years? Why on earth didn’t you tell anyone?”
Jaspierre looked up. “My mother taught me to run her- now my company Kyller and Co. We sell medicines, we help people. She set it up so I could attend the meetings, I have a great team of grownups who advise me. She taught me to fend for myself. I do not want anyone to mismanage my company, and my estate while I grow up. Nobody can do a better job than me. I have no family left.” Jaspierre stood up, her face red and angry. “I would have filed for emancipation already, but I know it isn’t typically granted to someone of my age.”
The silence in the room was astounding. This small eleven-year-old girl would try to be emancipated.
“I have been on my own since I was eight. I have always paid for staff to take care of me. No pet of mine has died of starvation. No plant left un-watered. During the last three years my company has blossomed. It has grown fifteen percent every single year. Not one bill or paycheck has been paid late. An accountant did my taxes. I have gotten medical attention the one time I had strep throat. I can and I do take care of my estate, my business, and myself. If that isn’t being a grown up, then what is? It has taken three years for anyone to notice I, Jaspierre have been running my home, my life, and my business. Everyone thought so far my mother was making these decisions. But it was me. And I did an excellent job! I am a wealthy woman. I do not want to end up a broke eighteen-year-old.”
Jaspierre sat down, head held high. Cameras flashed and reporters scribbled notes.
The judge had no idea what to make of this. He had never even heard of someone who wasn’t a teenager filing for emancipation. He cleared his throat. “Jaspierre, do you know where your mother is?”
“I know Mother,” She tried to swallow the anger rising up. “My mother knew she would leave me. That’s why she had me run board meetings at the age of five. That’s why she gave me my office. That’s why she showed me how to pay all the bills. She showed me how to fire someone and how to hire. ”
“But do you know where she is? Has she contacted you in all this time?”
“Once.”
“Where is she? What did she say?”
Jaspierre held back angry tears. “She asked me if I still had my cat she gave me when I was seven. If I was doing well, and said she heard the company’s stock was up. She told me to stay in school. I heard a man snoring.” Tears welled up and dribbled down her cheek as she spun the convincing lie.
“Do you know who your father is?”
“I don’t know who he is,” she replied both lying and telling the truth. “He might be dead.”
“Your birth certificate says Jasper Pierre. Do you know who that is?”
Jaspierre had never read her birth certificate before. And terrified, angry tears poured out of her like a waterfall. “I don’t know!” Her sobs echoed in the courtroom. “I am doing fine on my own. I am fine. Isn’t that enough?”
The judge called for a break and asked Jaspierre to come to his office. He handed her a tissue. “Look, I can’t emancipate you. It doesn’t matter that you are doing grownup things; you need actual grownups to watch over you. But I think I have ideas on how I can give you almost what you want.”
Jaspierre sat listening and wringing her hands. Once they finished talking, they walked to the courtroom, and she sat with her court-appointed lawyers, her court-appointed special advocate, her welfare worker. The team sat there, whispering together, ignoring the child altogether. One of them asked her what the judge said, and she waved them away.
“I have spoken with Jaspierre, and we will use a few programs to our advantage. First off, she will not be fully emancipated. We will treat her like a foster child, under her own care. She is, an extreme case, and I will require she meets with her court appointed special advocate, and her welfare worker once a month, until she turns eighteen. She will be required to meet with a psychiatrist once a week for the same number of years. Also, although I will allow her to live on her own and manage her own money, we are going to require other adults be in her home at all times. This can be staff of her choosing. She is required to maintain her grades, and graduate from high school.”
Jaspierre sat dejected.
“Jaspierre, I know you feel like you have taken good care of yourself. But you are still an eleven-year-old child. I am concerned with all these grown up decisions you will have not had time for proper emotional development. That is why I am requiring so many check-ins with adults who can help you. The last thing I would like to note, while I do not pretend to know how an eleven-year-old child can run such a company, your work hours will be limited to ten per week, only increased to twenty per week once you hit high school. You are, first and foremost, a child. You can still have the reins of your business, but you may not work thirty to forty hours per week like you are doing now. Make friends, take a dance class if you wish. Try and be a kid for at least a portion of your life.”
Jaspierre was hurt and angry. Her hours being cut was absolutely ridiculous. How could she run a company on ten hours a week? She supposed she would have to figure it out. She could do that, though. Worst-case scenarios were over. She wasn’t emancipated. But she was her own guardian. She had to do all these pointless hours of meetings. But it could have been way worse, they could have found out about her father.
Chapter 10
Jasp slept in the chair next to Lucas. She checked his chest repeatedly and worked, and dozed the rest of the time. In the morning, he was still delirious, but he seemed like he’d rest all day. His fever was much lower, and there wasn’t much pus left.
She left him a note saying she had gone to play with Russell. An idea for him came up and she couldn’t wait to test her theory. She went down and made herself frozen waffles for breakfast and got Russell the standard apple and sandwich and coke combo. She clicked the ear of the serval, and her two cats came running along. They slipped into their boxes and she set out four animals for them to hunt. She mixed the maze up and then released the rabbit, fox, gerbil, and ferret.
She let the cats go and walked to Russell’s room. What used to be Lucas’s room. It was strange to see a different body down there, lying under those same sheets. She vaguely wondered if he would masturbate as beautifully, but she thought not.
His toes looked like they were bleeding some, by the marks on the sheets. Also his arm; his arm was bleeding quite a bit. She opened the dumbwaiter and found it said, “fuck you” in smeared blood. The two pills were still there.
She grinned. Oh yes. Russell was a spitfire. She sent down the sandwich and the coke. “Wake up, you dumb fucker!” She said playfully loud and sat on the rail to watch her cats hunt. She munched on her waffles like a sandwich; syrup and butter packed between the two.
Russell rolled awake and looked around. He saw the little dumbwaiter was open again. There sat food and the same two pills, and his message writte
n in his own blood.
Russell debated if the sandwich was worth the effort. He was hungry, yes, but it hurt to get to the dumbwaiter. He should scoot the bed closer; it would help. But he wasn’t up for shoving it around. He stared at his toe stubs; a few of them bled. They hurt today so extremely bad. His feet were red and swollen. “I need a doctor,” he said.
“I can hear you even if you whisper. Just a little FYI to get us going. Call me the doctor.” She sounded almost like she was singing.
“Doctor, I need to go to a hospital.”
“Why don’t you take your medicine?” Jaspierre giggled in a morbid way.
“I don’t know what that is. I am not taking it.”
She grinned and stared as Tessa found herself nose to nose with a fox. Tessa sniffed at the fox. The fox sniffed at Tessa.
“Doctor, can you give me something else to eat besides apples?” Russell said.
“Shhh, she found the fox.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
The fox moved its tail, and Tessa jumped with surprise and ran off. Foxes were scary. Jaspierre giggled. That was one for the blooper reel. Ikali found the ferret and was carrying it around like a toy teddy bear.
Russell moved his sore, aching feet to the floor and he lowered to his butt. Then he crawled backwards toward the food. Jaspierre turned a screen so she could watch him while she stared out the window at the cats. As he squirmed across the floor, Jaspierre grinned. He got to the wall and pushed his back against it and pressed his heels into the ground, shifting his back up the wall. He turned to reach for the food, and Jaspierre snapped the door shut seconds before he reached in.
“What the fuck!”
Jaspierre (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 1) Page 7