Jimmy

by William Malmborg

  The image of this brought a smile to Tina’s face. It quickly faded once she actually stepped into Rebecca’s room and began her search. It was the faces that did it. Rebecca had lined the walls of the room with pictures of her late mother, ones which seemed to constantly glare at her as she examined the contents of each dresser drawer.

  It was the actual location of the prom ticket that stopped her dead in her tracks. It was sitting on the surface of a drawer full of unframed photographs, the small blue and white slip of paper clipped to one of the pictures.

  At first Tina didn’t think much of this and just slipped the ticket free of the connection. A second later a chill slipped down her spine as she realized what the picture displayed, her father’s face easily recognizable despite the time that had passed. Rebecca’s face was harder to make out, the years between then and now having taken a serious toll upon what was once an incredibly pretty and youthful appearance. The two were formally dressed, her father wearing a tuxedo with a flower, Rebecca wearing a royal blue gown, one which seemed to enhance her beauty the way a nice frame will enhance a painting. Her father’s tuxedo didn’t have the same effect and instead made it look like he was trying to pull a fast one on everybody.

  Enchantment Under the Stars — Prom of 1992.

  Tina stared at the picture for several seconds, and then peeked into the drawer to see what else was in there. A wedding photo greeted her. It sat atop a wedding album.

  She pulled it out. Together Forever — Memories of Stanley Thompson and Rebecca Collins Wedding — August 26, 1992 was embedded in gold on the thick cover, an image of the two kissing in front of the altar pressed into it beneath the words.

  Tina opened the book and started looking at the pictures, her eyes growing wet as she saw the happy, yet nervous face of her father captured time and time again throughout the wedding ceremony and celebration. Rebecca looked happy as well, though her thick white gown did not have the same effect that her prom dress had had in the other picture. Truth be told, the wedding dress almost looked as if it was holding her hostage, the thick layers of fabric acting like restraints.

  Your mother probably picked out the dress and made you wear it, whereas you were the one deciding on the prom dress.

  Tina shook her head and closed the book, her mind wondering what the hell her father had been thinking. Why marry the bitch, especially right after school like that? Why not go out and enjoy life for a while? It just didn’t make any sense. Her father should have been smarter than that. Shit, her father was smarter than that.

  But he was in love.

  She looked at the prom picture again and saw it in his eyes. Rebecca had it too.

  Puppy love.

  She peeked into the drawer after that. Other photo albums were there, as were dozens upon dozens of loose pictures that had just been dumped in. Each one was a picture of Rebecca and her father, or just her father.

  Tina pulled out a pink album that had the words It’s A Girl printed across the front.

  A chill crept down her spine.

  She opened the book.

  A picture of Rebecca lying in a hospital bed, face plastered with sweat, looked back at her. Her father was in the picture as well, leaning over the bed and looking at the camera, smiling. Tina lay between them, eyes closed, her tiny body wrapped in a small blanket, pink socks covering her feet.

  Several more hospital pictures followed, and then one of the two standing outside of an apartment building, Rebecca holding Tina. Snow covered the ground and each of them was wrapped up tightly, Tina included, a warm baby outfit hiding just about every part of her body. Written beneath the picture on the caption spot was Home For the First Time — January 1993.

  Tina smiled.

  She remembered the apartment, but not her mother being there. Instead she had memories of her grandparents coming over and staying with her during the day while her father went to work and then night school, something which he finished when she was in first grade. Her grandparents and she had sat in the hot sun while her father had gotten his diploma, her grandmother taking pictures like crazy, her father looking funny in the black square hat. Tina remembered the event. She had no idea what was going on at the time, just that it was important and that soon after they were able to move into a house rather than an apartment, the same house they had lived in until his death last year, one that wasn’t displayed in any of the pictures she found in the drawer.

  Daddy, where is Mommy? Tina remembered asking once.

  She lives with her Mommy, her father had said.

  Why?

  The answers had stayed pretty simple until she had been old enough to understand the reality of the situation.

  She put the baby album away and looked at some of the stand alone pictures. In some her father and Rebecca looked happy, in others they just looked like any other married couple who had grown used to the constant companionship.

  Tina dumped the pictures back into the drawer, and then replaced the two albums, her mind still startled by the wedding one because she had never seen any of those pictures before.

  She wondered why Rebecca had been the one to get the album, especially since she had been the one to walk away, but then figured her father probably hadn’t wanted the constant ‘in your face’ memories the album would carry. Plus he probably figured it would act like a thorn in Rebecca’s side, its purpose being to constantly remind her that she had abandoned her family.

  He wouldn’t think that way, Tina said a few seconds later.

  She looked at the prom picture.

  God, if only you knew what she would do.

  She wondered what her father would have thought at that moment if he knew that within a year he would be married and have a daughter.

  Hell, not even a year, more like — she quickly counted the months in her head — nine months.

  She shook her head and put the picture away and started for her room, the prom ticket safe and sound in her pocket where it would stay until prom night.

  * * *

  Megan was staring down toward her purse, but not really seeing it, her mind projecting a pleasant fantasy as she took one of the boards in the corner and beat in Jimmy’s head until his skull split like an oversize eggshell, when suddenly the purse sprang to life with a series of barks and growls.

  Shouting, Megan tried backing herself away from the small leather bag, but the ropes wouldn’t let her get very far and for one brief moment she had a vision of something horrible exiting the purse and coming for her, her body unable to get away and moving in small circles as she danced around the angry creature.

  But then things clicked and she realized it was not the leather coming back to life, or some other horrible monstrosity, just her phone, which had different ring settings for different people, her mother’s being a dog barking and growling because sometimes the lady could be a real bitch. Her other family members had personalized rings as well, her little brother’s being ‘If I only had a brain’ from The Wizard of Oz and her father’s being a series of Barney Fife statements from the Andy Griffith Show, though she had been planning on changing the latter one because none of her friends understood what they were.

  The phone stopped growling after six series of rings.

  Please no voicemail, Megan said to herself, but then the happy little half ring echoed once the message from her mother was complete.

  Oh God!

  Her phone was programmed to beep every ten minutes when she had a message. Normally such a feature didn’t bother her because she didn’t get that many messages, and when she did she usually listened to them right away. Now, however, the stupid phone would beep every ten minutes, driving her crazy, and she would have no way of turning it off. Even worse, the thing was fully charged, and had a really long battery life, one that lasted even longer when no one was talking or texting.

  At least they are wondering where you are, her inner voice said.

  The question was, would they be able to find her in time �
�� in time meaning before Jimmy spread her legs and fucked her. Or would she be a withering mess of flesh, simply dangling from the ropes when they finally discovered the secret location.

  Or a rotting mess of flesh tossed in the woods — one that the coyotes and birds have been picking at for days?

  The thought chilled her to the core and once again brought up the question of why Jimmy had done this? Why would he kidnap Samantha? Why would he kidnap me?

  Not to kill her, obviously — unless of course killing was just the dessert after a very satisfying meal.

  Her eyes once again took in Samantha.

  What has he done to you?

  More important, what is he going to do to me?

  Dozens of different possibilities ran through her head, none of them pleasant, all of them frightening. After a few moments of this she tried to block everything out but her mind wouldn’t stop.

  The phone beeped.

  Ten minutes since the call.

  Time was moving slowly.

  Megan shifted her arms and stretched herself so that she was on her toes for a moment all in an attempt to ease an ache that had started to develop in her back. At first the stretch worked, but then the ache returned the moment she allowed her body to sag against the ropes again.

  Samantha moaned.

  Megan twisted around to look at her, but her friend still had an empty look behind her eyes.

  She didn’t bother trying to communicate with her, not yet, maybe not ever. It all depended how badly Jimmy had hurt her.

  Don’t let him touch you! her inner voice ordered. Even if he threatens to hurt you, make him pay dearly.

  Megan could see herself hitting him in the balls every time he tried to fuck her to the point where he lost all his desire to do anything. Of course if she did that he might kill her, and then her family would never find her.

  They might not find you anyway!

  She thought about the entrance to the fallout shelter and how she had never known about it or heard anyone ever talk about it. That said, someone had to know about it, and Jimmy had been able to find it, so there was a chance she would be found.

  Still, would she want to give in to Jimmy just to stay alive? If rescued could she live with herself after being raped repeatedly?

  She thought about that girl in California who had been kidnapped as a young teenager, or maybe even before she was a teenager, and held in that perverts backyard in a tent for something like twenty years. The girl had given birth to his children and raised them in the tent, finally being found only when the family went to the police station or something — Megan hadn’t paid too much attention when the story had been on the news but now was curious on what that girl’s mind was like.

  Will Jimmy make us bear his children?

  The thought sickened her, especially when she imagined it all taking place in the small little concrete room, one which didn’t even seem to have a toilet or shower.

  Worse, she saw herself giving birth while standing tied, Jimmy trying to pull the child out, his actions those of someone who had no clue what they doing and screwed everything up.

  And then, even worse than that, she saw the baby as a girl, one who grew up thinking this was all the world was, her body there solely for Jimmy, who would spend years molesting her.

  No! No! No! Megan’s mind screamed. The horrible timeline would not stop, however, and got more and more disturbing until she finally tried to rip her hands free, the ropes tearing the damaged skin to the point where blood actually hit her face.

  The cell phone beeped.

  “Shut up!” she screamed and kicked at the purse.

  Her foot caught one of the straps and jerked the purse in the air, but at a sideways angle which caused several items to fall out, the lipstick getting a good bounce and rolling all the way to the wall.

  The phone, however, stayed within.

  She let the purse fall back to the floor and removed her foot from the strap.

  On cue the phone started to ring, the growls of an angry dog once again echoing through the fallout shelter.

  This time her mother didn’t leave a message, not that it mattered since the phone still beeped every ten minutes to remind her of the first message.

  * * *

  “Will you guys be home for dinner?” Kelly Hawthorn asked once Jimmy and Alan told her they needed the car. “I was going to make spaghetti.”

  “Um yeah,” Jimmy said. “I think?” He turned to Alan while saying this last part. “How long will this take?”

  Alan shrugged. “I don’t know. They just have to measure us.”

  “Us?” Jimmy said.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Alan said with a shrug. “I’m going to prom too. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Kelly said. “Who’re you going with?”

  “Some senior chick. I guess her boyfriend bailed on her.”

  “And how did you come into the picture?” Kelly asked.

  “Art class. We sit together.”

  “What’s her name?” Jimmy asked.

  “Good question,” Alan said while scratching his head. “I should probably figure that out.”

  “Seriously, who is it?”

  “Rachel something or other. Long brown hair, cute face—” he checked to see if their mother was looking and when he saw that she wasn’t cupped some imaginary breasts “ — and huge… ”

  “Huge what?” Kelly asked while turning toward them.

  “Huge stores of art talent and opinions on history, science and philosophical theory,” Alan said.

  Kelly nodded. “Go on, get those tuxes. Oh, and Jimmy?”

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “See if you can teach your little brother how to be respectful toward women and understand how to treat them as a person not some eye pleasing object.”

  “Hey!” Alan snapped. “I look for more than just beauty in women. I know they need to understand how to cook, clean, and fold clothes.”

  “Oh you better run,” Jimmy said.

  Alan did, though his mother was still able to nail him with some spray from the sink.

  A few seconds later the two were in their mother’s car heading into town, both of them laughing.

  “You know,” Jimmy said as they neared the shop where they could rent tuxedos. “We should probably stop by Taco Bell on the way home.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Mom is so going to poison your food.”

  * * *

  “Well what do you know,” Brett said as Jimmy and his little brother walked into the clothing store on the corner, one which had been pretty busy lately thanks to the upcoming prom and their tuxedo rental program. The place even had a large banner telling those planning on attending prom to hurry up and get their tuxedos before it was too late. “You don’t actually think he’s going to prom?” He stood up while asking this and then added, “Let’s go make sure he gets something nice.”

  “Ah man, just leave him alone,” Matt said.

  “What?”

  “Leave them alone.”

  “Like hell I will. I told you what he did to me yesterday.”

  “Yeah, after we took his bike.”

  The two were sitting on the bench in front of the old rundown video store; one which Matt had worked in for two years before it finally closed its doors and sold off its inventory. They had been there for twenty minutes watching the grocery store a few doors down, hoping someone would help them buy beer.

  “Since when did you become such a pussy,” Brett demanded.

  Matt shrugged. “I’m just not in the mood.” Truthfully he hadn’t been in the mood since a year earlier when Jimmy had shoved him up against a gym locker between classes back in the corner of the Men’s Locker Room where the gym teacher couldn’t see from the office, pissed that Matt had told everyone what he had rented from the video store. Matt couldn’t remember what the movie title was, just that it had been a kinky soft core porn flick, nor did he really care. Instead all
he remembered was the look in Jimmy’s eyes, a look that said if you ever fuck with me again I will kill you.

  Since then he had slowly started to lose heart in the torment of Jimmy, yet for some reason couldn’t bring himself to completely separate himself from Brett and Ron, not after spending so much of his childhood by their sides.

  He was also a little scared of Jimmy, though he would never allow such a thing to become known. Something was seriously wrong with the guy, something which he couldn’t put his finger on but knew to be true nonetheless.

  “Oh, not in the mood,” Brett said, voice rising. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t know you had such a delicate schedule.”

  “Can we just get the beer and go?”

  “Yeah, as soon as someone takes the stick out of their ass and helps us buy some,” Brett snapped.

  “Why don’t we just call your brother?”

  “I’m not fucking calling my brother. I told you want happened.”

  Yeah, Brett had told him. He had told him a dozen times, his mind completely obsessed. Matt, however, hadn’t really cared and like so many other moments when he had been around Brett, started to realize just how immature the guy was and wondered why he still put up with it. It was stupid. Even worse, he knew that ten years from now Brett would still be like this and it brought to mind something one of his teachers had said a few years earlier about her high school reunion and how the ‘cool kids’ had become the ‘lame adults’ yet didn’t realize it and still expected everyone to think they were all that. It was a position he didn’t want to find himself in ten years from now.

  “Come on, let’s—” Brett started but stopped as a sheriff deputy cruiser pulled up, the deputy inside giving them the look that told them to move it.

  Matt stood up to head to Brett’s car, but Brett stood his ground.

  The passenger window slid down.

  “You can’t arrest us for just sitting here, Paulie,” Brett said before the deputy even got a word out.

  “You want to test that theory out, Mr. Murphy?” Deputy Paul Widgeon asked. “Now move along and do something productive for a change.”