“Ohh, baby,” Deacon moaned. Through enamored eyes, he saw the love of his life towering over him. Dark nipples engorged, her face began to change. She skillfully guided him to the place of his desire. “Oh, my, God,” he cried out as ecstasy washed over him, “oh, my, God.”
Her hand was heavy on his throat. He gasped for breath. Her grip tightened. Above her head, her free hand snapped from side to side like a cowboy on a runaway horse. She sucked her cheeks into her now gaunt face. Wild blue eyes glared. She screamed. “This is it, doll, now it’s my turn… Bitch, you’re done. It’s my turn to lead!”
Every nerve in Deacon’s body pulsed in synaptic disarray. He stiffened and passed out. Deep red, then black, and finally consciousness came. He opened his eyes. She had not moved. “What,” he said weakly, “what did you say?”
She draped her limp body over his. With her lips pressed against his ear, she whispered. Her delicate, raspy voice was more sensuous than ever before. “Don’t worry about it, doll. Now I’m here. Finally we are one.” Her breath was chocolaty sweet.
She nimbly stood; still straddling him, she hopped backward, and landed gracefully with both feet flat on the floor. She backed toward the bathroom, and paused in the open doorway. Harsh incandescent light painted a reddish, phosphorescent outline of her naked torso. In a strangely different, commanding tone she said, “From now on you can call me, Star.”
She backed into the brightly lit room and closed the door in front of her.
ELEVEN
Her hands on her hips, Star stood in the middle of the cluttered apartment. “Give it all away, to charity, or whoever will take it!” She said emphatically. “I don’t give a shit what we do with it. I don’t fucking need it. I only want my clothes.”
Deacon opened the closet, shook his head, and stepped back. “Whoa,” he said, obviously amazed. “I knew you had nice things, but I really had no idea. This is unbelievable. We’ll have to make two trips.”
“A girl likes to look pretty,” she answered unimpressed.
“All this must have cost a fortune.”
“What else have I had to spend my money on? When I was living in California, I moved often. I always found roommates with furniture, and I spent my money on clothes. This was the first time I bought any furniture.” She canvassed the room with a sweeping hand motion. “I got it all at a secondhand store.”
“Why did you come back? I have never really understood. I thought you loved Los Angeles, the climate, the excitement, and the movie stars.”
“I did, I do, but I felt ungrounded. The Midwest is my real home. This is the place where I lived with my mother.” Sad face, make a sad face, she thought. “I thought that if I moved back, some of the old feelings, the happiness, would return to me. It sure worked out better than I expected. Thanks to Kat and providence, I found you. We found each other.”
“You’re glad you came back?” Deacon sounded anxious. “You’re really happy here? It’s only been a week since our first time. You’re not going to leave me, are you?”
“Never,” she smiled and nonchalantly touched his two-day stubble. “Everything is much better than I’d hoped, than I’d planned.”
“Close your eyes and relax.” Star spoke softly in an unwavering monotone. “Imagine yourself alone in a room. It’s white, all white—the ceiling, the walls, the floor, everything. You are standing on a luxurious carpet. It isn’t too warm or too cold. It’s perfect, comfortable, and safe. The light is dim, but you can see clearly. It’s candlelight, but you see no candles. Are you there? Don’t open your eyes. If you are, simply say yes.”
“Yes.” Deacon answered obediently. Slumped on the sofa, his chin rested on his chest.
“The room is large. At the end opposite you, is an entryway, but there’s no door. Leave this room, and enter the next. It’s much like the first one, comfortable and safe, only smaller. Look, your parents are here, the Reverend and Grace; they’re smiling, happy to see you. Look into their eyes. They’re telling you that they love you with their eyes. Can you see them? Do you feel them?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Your parents want to take your hands, one on each side. Put your hands in theirs and walk with them. Walk through the next entryway; don’t be afraid. This room is a dull red. The stone floor is hot, scorching hot. It is burning the soles of your shoes. Relax. Your parents are strong. They’ll protect you. Feel their strength. If you see this, say yes.”
“Yes.”
“This room has no exit. Look behind you. The place where you entered is gone. It has become a solid wall. It’s hotter now. Look, the other wall, there’s a cross. It’s your cross, Deacon, the cross on your arm. Look at the serpent and into its evil eyes. Now,” Star commanded urgently, “now run. Run to it and rip the snake from the cross. Tear it down, and destroy it before it destroys you!”
*****
Deacon experienced exactly what she described. In his semi-dream state, he saw the cross and the serpent. The heat was suffocating. He felt trapped. Something was wrong. He was alone. The monstrous serpent thrashed and hissed. Deadly venom dripped from its fangs. Deacon screamed, and ran back to where the entrance had been. There was nothing there; it was a solid wall. He heard his father’s faint voice in the distance. He that is without sin among you… He that is without sin… He that is without… He…
Deacon’s nightmare world went black; he lost consciousness.
The acrid blast, from the smelling salts that Star pressed against his nostrils, jerked him back to consciousness. His sweat soaked shirt clung to his chest; his jeans reeked of urine.
“It’s okay, doll, I’m here.” She said in a low, soothing voice. “You’re okay, you’re safe. You did well. We’re making progress. Relax and go to sleep. We’re done. Tomorrow we’ll go there again, and you’ll win, once and for all. I’m sure of it, absolutely sure.”
Deacon fell fitfully to sleep; the serpent came, bigger, angrier, and more violent than ever before.
*****
Near the bed, Star casually rocked and watched her doll toss and turn. She smiled contentedly, and dragged a wooden match slowly across the rocker’s arm.
The black market Cohiba glowed fiery red in the dark room.
*****
“I remember the day he first walked through that door.” Doc Williams said pensively. He gestured toward the locked plate-glass entrance. “It seems like yesterday.”
Doc and Kat were alone in the middle of the showroom floor comfortably reclining against custom motorcycles. They sat a few feet apart. Their legs dovetailed, not touching. He brandished a half-full bottle of longneck Budweiser. It was his sixth. Kat was one behind.
“He was just a kid, a scared, wet-nosed kid. He must’ve looked at everything in here ten times before he finally got up enough nerve to ask me for a job.”
“I remember that day, too. Only I remember that you were a little short on compassion.” She giggled drunkenly as she lifted her tee shirt and freed her breasts. “You and your long thoughtful pauses, you almost had Deacon in tears before you gave him a job. At least you made up for it later. I was proud of you the way you took him under your wing.”
“Kat, this is serious, put the twins away. We need to talk about Deacon. I’m really worried. Maybe what’s happenin’ to him is my fault.” Doc said somberly. “It was my idea to make him a member of the Sons. I introduced him to this life. I could have turned him away, sent him back to his folks. Instead, I helped him make it without them. Hell, I’m the one that suggested he get the fucking tattoo. Now look at him. He drinks too much, he blacks out, and God only knows what else. Shit, even I have nightmares about the butchered pimp in the alley.”
“Pimp, how do you know he was a pimp?”
“Didn’t I tell you? When the cops questioned me about what I saw, they told me the guy had just arrived, a few days before, from California. There was a warrant for his arrest in LA. The charge was pandering.”
“I’ll be damned,” Ka
t’s eyes were beginning to dull from the beer. Her shirt slipped partially down. One naked breast remained. “You can’t blame yourself, Doc. You’ve done so many good things for Deacon. You gave him a chance. He wouldn’t have gotten that any place else. If you had turned him away, no telling what might have happened. He would probably never have gone home.
“As for that hellacious tattoo, I was there. When he described what he wanted, it was as if he was possessed. It didn’t even sound like Deacon talkin’. I’m haunted by the memory of the look in his eyes, and the way he talked. After all these years, I remember it like it just happened.”
“The last ten years have been great. He and I have hardly ever argued, and the business has done better than I had ever hoped. I just wish I knew what went wrong. What caused the nightmares and the drinkin’, and what do we have to do to get it stopped, to get Deacon back?”
“Hon’, at least he has Star. The first time I saw her I knew she was perfect for him. Have you seen how he dotes over her? If he can be saved, she’s the one that can do it.”
Doc’s reaction was strong and immediate. “Yeah, whatever—shit, what’s up with her, anyway?”
Kat’s eyes flashed, surprised. “What, what are you talking about?”
“Her name, that’s what. All these months, all I’ve heard is Estrella this and Estrella that. Nothing would do, but I had to learn how to pronounce her name. Now, all of a sudden, we’re supposed to call her Star. I’d like to know what happened to fucking Estrella. I don’t know what went down in Sturgis, but since he got back, Deac’s been actin’ goofier ’n shit.”
Kat’s drunken slur became a stern, clear admonition. “Edward, let’s not forget you have your nickname, or road name, or whatever you want to call it.”
“Okay, I see your point. I’m just tryin’ to put it all in perspective, that’s all, and I’m havin’ a hard time rememberin’ to call her Star and Deacon keeps correctin’ me.”
“You’ll get used to it.” She switched back to sweet. “Star is good for Deacon, and right now, more than ever before, he needs someone. Doc, he needs happiness in his life.”
“I don’t know, Kat. It just doesn’t seem right. She’s too perfect. If she’s so good for him, why doesn’t she stop him from drinkin’? Instead, she’s drinkin’ with him.”
“You don’t understand. You men are all alike. He’d been drinkin’ for a long time before they met. If she tells him he has to stop, it’ll drive him away and make everything worse.” Kat hiccupped. She covered her mouth. “She and I have talked about this. She told me that she always makes his drinks, and puts in as little Jack as possible. She’s keepin’ him occupied, so he won’t feel sorry for himself and obsess over the nightmare.”
“What do you know about her, really?” he asked.
“She’s had a hard life, lotta tough breaks. Her father died in Nam when she was a baby. Her mother died of cancer when she was, umm, like seven or eight, I think. She bounced from one foster home to another. Nobody wanted to adopt her. She was already too old. Everyone wanted a baby.
“Right after high school, she took off for the West Coast with her boyfriend. She was sure they were in love. She got a job waitin’ tables, and he hung out lookin’ for movie stars. She finally got tired of supportin’ him and threw him out. She stayed, took acting lessons, went to auditions, and kept waitressing. It never worked out, so she decided to come home to St. Louis.”
“But why, baby? If her parents are both dead, and she has no family, why come back here? What’d she hope to find?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure I don’t understand. I still have my parents, and I can’t even imagine my life without them. I’ve thought about that, when they die, I mean. My memories of my childhood are stirred by special places. You know, by certain little things. Maybe that’s why Star came back. Maybe she’s looking for places that she went as a little girl with her mother. She’s probably lookin’ for stuff that reminds her of a happy time in her life. Doc, I think she’s lookin’ for somethin’ better, just like we’re all lookin’.”
“I guess so. I hope you’re right.”
“I am. ’Sides, Deacon isn’t a snot-nosed kid washin’ bikes anymore. They’ll work this out. You’ll see. Now, come here you big hunk, and give me a little of that special medicine that only my doctor can prescribe.”
*****
“Deacon, Deacon, you all right?” Doc touched the motionless figure slumped over the desk in their office. His skin was too warm. He breathed irregularly. Doc shook him.
Deacon awakened roughly, flailing his arms and yelling incoherently. Where his eyes should have been, bloodshot slits glowed red like dying embers in a hardwood fire. Sour alcohol, mixed with sweat, emanated from every pore. He smelled like an empty whiskey keg in the men’s locker room.
“What? Yeah—yeah—I’m, I’m okay.” Deacon answered sluggishly. “I must’ve dozed off.”
“You look like hell, man. You won’t make it ’til lunch. Why don’t you just go home?”
“No, I don’t want… I don’t need to go home. I have work to do. Don’t worry ’bout me.”
“Listen, you smell like shit. Why don’t you at least go in the back and get cleaned up? Hey, I’ve got an idea, get yourself squared away, and let’s go out for a burger?”
“Doc, I’d love to, but I’m pickin’ Star up for lunch today.”
“What’s with you two? Sometimes I think you’re joined at the hip.”
“I can’t explain it, but for me, it’s like she’s a part of me, the best part. I think about her all the time. She drives me crazy. I’ve never known anyone like her.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for you, you know that. Everybody needs somebody. Deac, I know this is none of my business, but I thought you were gonna stop drinkin’. What’s up with that?”
“Doc, you worry too much. I don’t have a drinkin’ problem. I’m fine.”
“What about the blackouts and the nightmares? Have you looked in the mirror lately? You sure seemed to have a problem when you spent five days at my house dryin’ out. Even you thought so.”
“That’s unrelated. I don’t have a drinkin’ problem, and I’m gettin’ rid of the nightmares. The blackouts are history, and I don’t drink heavy anymore. I drink when I want to. Star’s helpin’ me. Everything’s great.”
“If you say so.” Doc, shaking his head, walked slowly back to the showroom.
*****
“Kat, I’m just not sure about this.” Doc said as they walked toward the lawyer’s office.
“Doc, we’ve been over this a hundred times.” Kat answered without breaking stride. Hand in hand they crossed the busy street. “It’s just a precaution. If there’s nothing wrong with Deacon, then as soon as this is over, we can put it all back. Okay?”
“I guess. It just feels wrong, that’s all.”
“Edward, you should have had an exit strategy from the beginning. I wish you would have come to me years ago.” The balding middle-aged lawyer said. He sat, stoically, on the other side of the massive desk.
“It was a different time.” Kat added in defense of her husband. “It all just happened. One day we were a sole proprietorship, and the next we formed a partnership. It was no big deal.”
The lawyer explained that under their current partnership agreement if anything happened to either of them, Doc or Deacon, the matter would go into probate. He seemed condescending as he described how the courts would handle the case. He suggested that they restructure the agreement. “We can make it so if one of the partners should die, or otherwise be unable to contribute, due to permanent disability, imprisonment, or institutionalization that partner’s share would revert, in its entirety, to the remaining partner with appropriate compensation.”
Doc shook his head. “It sounds so sinister.”
Kat nudged his knee, and gave him a familiar, disapproving glance.
“Okay.” Doc reluctantly agreed.
Deacon was in a drunken stupor when
he signed.
*****
“Ooh, doll, come on let’s party!” Star slid her wet tongue into Deacon’s ear. A mimosa-dampened charge shot through his body. “Careful, baby,” he caught the fragile stemmed glass just before it crashed on the granite counter. A splash of orange cocktail slopped across the dollop of peanut butter, which formed a rough mound on white bread.
“Come on, doll.” She implored. “It’s Saturday, let’s have some fun!”
He pushed the nearly empty flute away and turned to face her. Her palpable allure was irresistible. Their arms intertwined as they sank to the cool tile floor. She urgently spread her legs. Her black pleated miniskirt bunched around her waist. “C’mon, doll, c’mon, Deac, give it to me. Give it to me hard. Show me the wild thing. Make me pant.”
“I don’t have protection,” he mumbled.
“Don’t worry. I’m on the pill. We don’t need those fucking condoms anymore. Now shut up and give it to me.” Her voice fell to a hoarse whisper. “There—there—that’s it—that’s the spot. Don’t stop—don’t stop. Yes—yes—yes.”
*****
“Let’s go dancin’.” She pulled him to his feet. “We can ride Widowmaker. Let’s live a little, and do up the town.” She hurried out of the room.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” He stumbled after her. “Don’t run off, wait for me.” The bathroom door slammed in his face.
“Star, let me in.” He knocked on the locked door. “C’mon, baby, I gotta wash my face.”
“Hold your horses.” She found the zip-lock plastic bag hidden beneath a towel in the back of the linen closet. “Can’t a girl get any privacy around here?” Wearing plastic gloves, she removed her diaphragm, sealed it in the bag, and stashed it in her purse.
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