by Janna Hill
Linda caught a flight to New Orleans where a car was waiting fueled with a one way rental agreement. She let herself in at the servant’s entrance of the Lafont mansion, breaking only one pane and raced upstairs. Ray had left the skeleton key in the door. Maggie crouched quivering in the dark as she heard the metal on metal grating, clenching the coat hanger she’d made ready to poke out the eyes if it was Ray and stretching the spiraled cord to the cell phone charger to choke him with…
“Maggie?” Linda whispered easing the door open.
“Is he here?” Maggie asked.
“I don’t think so.” Linda said turning on the light.
Nothing Maggie had told her could have prepared Linda for the horrendous site before her eyes.
This was not the Maggie she had last seen at LSU.
“Here put these on.” Linda said throwing a Danskin running suit at her, “I know it’s not your style but it’s the smallest thing I could find and it fit in my bag easy.”
“Thank you.” Maggie said, keeping her face down.
“Don’t you duck your head.” Linda told her, “Not in front of me. Let me look at you – see if I can spot the old Maggie.” Linda surveyed the pummeled face then stared into the watery eyes. “Yep, there she is.”
Maggie tried to smile but the tightness in her face made it hard.
“That’s some Lower Ninth Ward shit right there.” Linda said shaking her head then retracted, “No that’s some Mid-City… Hell girl I don’t know what that is but it is jacked up!. And Ray Lafont did this to you?”
Maggie nodded.
“I knew he had a mean streak in him but damn!” Linda looked around the room, “We better get out of here. Is there anything you want to take?”
Maggie shook her head, “This is all I have.” She said holding out the cell phone and charger.
“Lucky for you, huh.” Linda took Maggie’s arm, turned off the light and peaked out into the hall. The coast was clear or at least as far as Linda’s pin light could see.
When they reached the bottom of the staircase Linda turned to Maggie, “I’ll ask you one more time and that’s it kiddo – are you sure this is what you want to do?”
Maggie nodded.
“There is no turning back” she said “And probably no coming back. People like this don’t play games girl friend and if they do – they always win.”
“Look at me Linda.” Maggie said with conviction, “And my own mother told me to stay and work it out? Who do I have? What choice do I have?”
“Okay then.” Linda agreed. Moving forward she pressed the wooden panel of the console table in the foyer exposing a tin lock box. “We’re going out the front door and taking this with us.”
“I never knew that was there.” Maggie giggled.
“Don’t look like you ever came out of that blasted bedroom.” Linda chided.
“Not often.” Maggie admitted.
Within fifteen minutes they were on I-10 heading west.
“Can you believe it?” Linda asked, “Maggie Lafont steeling away in the middle of the night with the likes of me.”
Reclining her seat, Maggie looked up at the clear black sky dotted with stars and announced, “I don’t want to disappoint you but Maggie Lafont is dead.”
Chapter 13
Welcome To Texas
By noon they were pulling into Linda’s drive. Maggie had napped off and on between blurbs of filling Linda in on all the brutal details of her pampered life. When she wasn’t sleeping she kept the seat reclined so that other motorists couldn’t see her gruesome face.
“Wrap this around your face and put these on.” Linda said, pulling a scarf and shades from her bag. “Wait until you see I’ve unlocked the door and come straight in.”
Maggie secured the scarf around her head and lower face, eased the sun glasses over her swollen eyes and watched for her queue. When Linda had stepped inside the house Maggie got out of the car and hurried in. Linda swiftly shut and locked the front door and then quickly unlocked it, “Shoot. I forgot me treasure.” She smiled after her pirate imitation and raced back to the rented car. In less than sixty seconds she was indoors with the tin box in tow.
“Take your scarf off and sit down.” She told Maggie.
“Where?” Maggie asked.
“Anywhere you want.” Linda watched as the frightened woman sat on the edge of the sofa waiting for the next instructions.
“Good lord Maggie, you can’t even think for yourself any more can you?”
Maggie shrugged.
“Damn his wicked soul!” Linda cursed, “But we’ll bring the old Maggie back to life – its just going to take a little time.”
“I don’t want her back.” Maggie confessed, “I don’t even know who she was.”
“Well then we’ll have to reinvent Maggie Turner. Okay?”
Maggie nodded in agreement with a faint sparkle.
“Welcome to Texas Maggie Turner.” Linda said spreading her arms wide open.
Maggie had spent ten lonely days confined to the house waiting on the lumps and bruises to disappear and at last they were barely noticeable. The few that remained were easily disguised with the right make up, which Linda had supplied. Linda of course had supplied everything being as Maggie was now destitute. The only thing she had to her name was her cell phone but she was sure it would be turned off soon. It didn’t matter because she had no one to call any way. She sat running her fingers over the plastic cover wishing that someone would call and tell her what to do, how to move forward out of this stagnant pool of throbbing apathy. Someone to help her feel alive again, to tell her the last six months had only been a bad dream and that she could wake up now. The vibration startled Maggie and she threw the phone in the air, fumbling quickly to catch it.
The caller ID flashed Mother’s Cell. Maggie’s heart leapt. She’s coming for me. She thought, anxiously hitting the accept button.
“Hello Mother.” Maggie said.
“Where the hell are you?” Mrs. Turner asked with a bitterness Maggie had never heard before.
“Are you coming to get me?”
“WHERE ARE YOU MAGGIE?” the words came harder.
“I’m in Texas.”
“Then the best thing for you to do is stay there.”
“What?” Maggie asked confused by her mother’s comment.
“I am thoroughly humiliated young lady. For you to run off in the middle of the night with that voodoo priestess after robbing Ray and vandalizing the house makes me believe you are crazy.” She ranted, “You are insane, I can’t imagine what has gotten into you.
Thank God Ray has been kind enough not to press charges and to keep us in his good graces.”
“Is that what he told you?” Maggie asked with a hint of anger rising up but Mrs. Turner never heard her.
“Here is what is going to happen and you need to listen closely.”
“I’m listening.” Maggie told her, biting into her bottom lip.
“We will manage the gossip which will eventually go away but you are never to set foot east of the Louisiana state line. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“And get a new number. I don’t want the media getting to you.”
Maggie ended the call, turned the phone off and resumed rubbing the plastic cover.
“Good morning sunshine.” Linda yawned, scratching her backside as she entered the small kitchen in a tacky red robe and black furry house shoes that slid and clopped against the linoleum with every step. She poured herself a cup of stale coffee and added four heaping tablespoons of sugar before pulling a chair up next to her silent roommate.
“What’s on the agenda for today?”
Maggie shrugged, avoiding any eye contact.
“Who were you talking to?” she asked stirring the syrupy mix and watching Maggie intently. The truth was Linda had heard enough of the conversation to know who it was and that the call wasn’t what Maggie had hoped for.
It was for selfish reaso
ns that Linda wanted Maggie to stay on with her, as a sentry to the loneliness that crept up on her when she least suspected it. But for Maggie’s sake she honestly hoped that the mother would come, squeeze the scared girl close to her bosom and assure her that this too would pass. She partially understood her own mother’s crass behavior, how it stemmed from her superstitious fears passed down to her by the daughters of a Creole queen be it Marie Laveau or some other deluded gene pool. Apparently [despite education and splendor and all the shiny gems of entitlement] all roads lead to one heaven and one hell.
Maggie pretended not to hear the question as Linda slurped at the thick dark liquid still eyeing her she continued to stare at the phone rubbing it harder and harder until it squeaked beneath her sweat tinged thumbs.
“She’s not coming, is she?” Linda asked placing her hand on Maggie’s.
Maggie shook her head and accepted the gesture by grasping the saving hand. She squeezed tighter and tighter until Linda wasn’t sure she could endure the pressure but she refused to be the one to let go, not when her old classmate had nothing else to hold on to.
Maggie finally released her grip and threw her hands up over her face sobbing.
“That’s it.” Linda coaxed her, “Cry it out girl.” Pulling Maggie to her chest, stroking the shell of a woman over and over she implored her, “Cry it out.”
And Maggie did with sobs that would break the devil’s heart if he had one. Linda rocked and soothed her friend but any one looking on might not be sure who was doing the comforting as they clutched at on another with mingled tears.
“I’m scared.” Maggie told her three days later.
“What are you scared of?” Linda asked, picking the lint from Maggie’s shoulders.
“Everything!” Maggie declared, “I’ve never worked before.”
“You’re a trained nurse. You aint forgot what you learned, you just aint ever put it to use.” Linda reminded her.
“What if I screw up and kill somebody?”
“I got your back.” Linda smiled.
Within three weeks the new Maggie had emerged, a reinvented rougher tougher version of Maggie Turner. This Maggie was fearless, blunt and brazen – ready for anything life threw at her and sometimes she smoked. You’ve gotta do things you’ve never done before and do very little like the person you once were. Maggie had burned Linda’s words into her mind. If Linda Latrull could reinvent herself and start over then anybody could.
“You’re doing good kiddo.” Linda told her before a mouth full of salted peanuts.
“I mean it. Personally, professionally.” She said chasing the nuts with a cold swig of beer.
“You’re not doing so shabby yourself.” Maggie smiled, raising her can to the air.
“Oops.” She giggled as the can slipped from her hand, spilling onto Linda’s black furry house shoes and the linoleum floor. “I’ll clean it up.”
“Sit your drunk ass down.” Linda laughed, “I’ll get it.”
Linda clopped over to the drawer where the dish towels were kept and pulled out a stained plaid hand towel riddled with holes and froze for a second.
“Maggie?”
“Yeesss.”
Pulling the tin box from its hiding place Linda whispered as if the wrong person might over hear them, “We never opened this.”
Maggie shrugged one shoulder, lit a cigarette and after a long draw said smugly, “It’s your booty.”
“Do you want to open it?” Linda asked anxiously.
“It’s got a lock on it.” Maggie informed her then added with a cackle, “But we shouldn’t let that stop us!”
Linda reached into the drawer below the towels and brandished a pair of needle nosed pliers.
“Why would any one put a tiny lock like that on it anyway?” she asked
“Well if they had it hid they might not be expecting anyone to find it.” Maggie said as she pulled back the tab on a fresh can of sudsy brew.
“You do it.” Linda commanded shoving the box and pliers at her inebriated cohort.
“I will.” Maggie said boldly taking the pliers in her hand, stabbing and twisting at the small barrier.
“Not like that dummy!” Linda told her showing her the wire cutting edge at the head of the tool, “You have to cut it.”
“Ohhh” she said pinching the pliers together but it took a little more effort than Maggie had expected, sitting her beer down and gripping with both hands she squeezed harder until the metal popped. She laughed and yanked the lock loose sliding it across the table to Linda.
“Lets see what we’ve got here.” She said prying the container open. Linda inched closer to see inside.
Maggie shuffled through the box hoping to find something of value but there was no currency or documents, only photos of people she didn’t know. “Just as I figured.” She smirked, turning up her can and nearly emptying it. “Nothing but some dirty old porn pictures” she belched, “Not even a little bit of cash.”
“Let me see those pictures.” Linda said taking the photos from Maggie’s damp clutch.
Linda moved slowly through the photographs studying every face and scouring the background of each one.
“Did you see this one?” Linda asked with her mouth agape and holding up a still shot of two men in a compromising pose.”
Or this one?” It was a man and woman in missionary position.
“I saw a big ugly mole on her dimpled butt cheek.” Maggie laughed
“This one?” she asked forcing Maggie to look at a man receiving fellatio from the head of a brunette.
“I saw them.” Maggie barked, “I’m not surprised Ray had porn pictures, okay! You know I told you he was a sexual deviant.”
Linda paused and gradually tilted her head to be eye to eye with Maggie.
“So it doesn’t surprise you that it is HIM in the pictures?” she asked.
“What?” Maggie squawked jerking the photos from Linda and straining her eyes to focus, “Oh my gosh, it is him!”
“This is better than cash Maggie, way better than cash!” Linda sang, dancing around the compact kitchen. “This is your surety that he will never hurt you again – not as long as you have those.”
Maggie sat staring at the colored glossy prints. On closer observation she recognized the brunette as Ray’s mistress but didn’t have any idea who the man was in the lewd homosexual snap shot was. All that she could tell was that Ray was bare-assed with his man tool half buried in the other mans rectum… and he wasn’t wearing a condom.
“Eww.” Maggie said curling her lip, “That makes me feel kinda sick Linda.”
“Why because he’s bisexual? Shit happens honey.” Linda told her.
But Maggie had shut her out, thinking back to the night of her honeymoon when Ray had shoved his penis down her throat. I can’t go there. She reminded herself as she felt the dark rage filled nausea building in her. Walk back to the light. Walk back to the light. She repeated until she felt the fury diminish. When she was mellowed she again looked at the priceless keepsakes Linda had taken the night she escaped the Lafont house. The only thing that departed with her other than horrible memories.
“These look like they were taken at the same place.” Maggie mused, shuffling through the pictures over and over. “Same drapes, same furniture and everything.”
“They were- over on Dauphine street in New Orleans. I noticed that too. But I’m wondering who took `em and why. Somebody was black mailing ole Ray and lord knows he had it coming.” Linda stated, pushing the towel across the floor with a bare foot to soak up the beer and not realizing how much she had just said.
Maggie’s mouth dropped and suddenly she felt sober. She watched Linda scooting the ragged fabric back and forth, too worn to absorb much and mostly smearing the beer across the floor.
“So you know this place?” Maggie asked flicking the photographs.
Linda stood dead still, frozen knowing the information was new to the renegade debutante. The cat was out of the bag and th
ere was no getting it back.
“Yeah…” Linda answered turning her rear side to Maggie, “I use to live there.”
“But… I don’t understand.” Maggie stammered, “You lived with the brunette?”
“No- I lived there before the brunette.” Linda admitted, still not looking she wrung the smelly hand towel, rinsed and wrung it again then tossed it in the trash.
“But this is Ray’s place…where he keeps the mistress…right?”
“Right.” She concurred.
“So when did you live there?
“Before I met you.” Linda said now turning to face her petitioner.
“This- HE was the john that roughed you up and put you on the street?” Maggie gasped throwing a cupped hand over her astonished mouth.
Linda forced a nodding smile as Maggie’s face softened with compassion.
“I can’t believe it. You poor thing, oh my god.”
“Don’t pity me Maggie, please.” Linda begged on the verge of tears.
“It’s not pity Linda, it is empathy. There is a slight difference.”
“I don’t deserve either one, trust me.”
“Sure you do.” Maggie said as she started toward Linda, wanting to embrace her, knowing all too well what it was like on the wrong end of Ray Lafont’s wrath, she wanted to but Linda put her hands up for Maggie to keep her distance.
“No, you don’t get it girl.” Linda said as the tears broke loose and spilled over her tawny cheeks. “I’ve been bought and sold. I could have told you what a vicious bastard Ray Lafont was the day you called me with the news but I didn’t. I didn’t speak up `cause my mouth was sealed with hush money…You hear me? He paid me to keep my mouth shut when he knew we were friends and I took his money again. Mama was right, hell Ray was right. There is something wrong with me. My soul is gone it seems.” Linda’s face was drenched with tears mixed with drool and mucous as she ranted, “I wasn’t a friend to you Maggie Turner ‘cause I was too scared so I took the money and got my self to Texas where there was plenty of room to hide”