by Lee, Edward
“Couple’a things, if ya don’t mind,” he began and stepped right up close so his groin opposed her face. He pulled down his zipper.
“Oh, come on, Helton! Give me a break!”
“Shhh, shhh,” he whispered. “Don’t want the boys to hear.” He extracted his flaccid penis and began pulling on it. “All’s I need is a few more tweaks, ya know, on account I’se older than Micky-Mack’n Dumar—”
“I already gave you your tweak!” she complained, and already she could smell it. God! I want to THROW UP!
Now Helton isolated a testicle. “Ain’t no big deal, hon. Just a tad more, alls right?” He lowered his whisper. “I needs ta be able to perform proper in front’a the boys, ya know? But first, how’s about givin’ each nut a li’l suck first, huh? Ya don’t mind, do ya?”
Yes I do mind! VERY MUCH! Veronica’s face felt hard as a plaster mask. But then the grievous consideration recurred. If I don’t do what they want…
She sputtered, “Oh, all right!” and she pulled one horrendous testicle into her mouth, started to suck, then practically hacked it out. “Helton! Come on! Your balls smell worse than the rest of it!”
The large men chuckled. “Hon, it’s just a li’l male funk. Don’t be such a fuss-budget. Most gals, hail, they like the natural smell of a fella.”
Veronica stared at the slack scrotum and the proffered testicle. For Heaven’s sake! She took a deep breath, then did what he asked.
“Aw, dearie, that’s nice,” he guttered. As she sucked the second ball, his tacky, flaccid penis began to enlarge against the top of her cheek. She felt not only appalled but ridiculous.
“There, there, yeah.” Now the half-erect shaft hung before her face. “Now I’se need ya ta give the ole pipe some love too…”
What could she do?
She began to suck it.
“Aw, yeah, hon,” he kept whispering. “Just like we done taught ya—that’s just dandy, it is…”
With each awkward stroke of her head, she thought, Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting! but about twenty such strokes, Helton’s penis was hard and beating. He slipped it out, then, and put it back in his pants.
“There! Are you happy?”
“You’re a doll, Veronnerka.”
Yeah, I’m a doll, all right… All that smegma, the foul balls, and all that sheer odor—it was giving her a stomach ache.
“Now, lemme see—oh, yeah.” Helton seemed to remember something. “Be right back,” and he pushed through the shower curtain.
“How you boys comin’?” Veronica heard but then her mind drifted where she sat.
She felt squashed down by the sheer weight of this turmoil. At least up here she could see a bit. Through the windshield, a clearing within heavy woods extended. A bright moon glimmered behind tree branches. She thought of asking them where they’d been but decided against it when she heard more noises and voices coming from the back of the truck.
“Good. Git the bitch up…”
“Glad she ain’t passed out…”
“Yeah. Best she be awake’n seein…”
A clunk.
“Trash-mouth little snotty bitch like this deserve what she gits…”
They’ve got a woman back there, Veronica realized, and even though she couldn’t see what they were doing, she easily deduced after the clunk:
They’re putting her on the metal table…
“Tie the fat bitch down now, Micky-Mack…”
Something—an impulse, perhaps—distracted her. She looked down against the bottom of the shower curtain and saw…
My knapsack!
Yes, there is was, and she knew that her cellphone was right on top.
Careful now… She gathered all her courage, reached down and unzipped the top flap, and—
Got it!
—but just as she would take the cellphone up and call for help, Helton’s big hand took the phone from hers, and he pushed back through the curtain and sat in the driver’s seat. His other hand gripped the carry-handle of the Sony.
“Dang! I see you got yerself one’a these fancy phones too,” he seemed to marvel. “A cellphone’s what they call it, huh?”
Veronica slumped. “Yes, Helton. It’s a cellphone.”
“We gots one too, believe it or not. Fella named Paulie sent us one.” He tilted his head in resignation and put the phone in his pocket. “Well, see, Veronnerka, way things is…we cain’t have ya callin’ no one just yet. I’m shore ya understand.”
Veronica wanted to cry.
Some minor clatter, now, came from the back, and then?
Oh, no…
Then she thought she could hear the faintest stifled moan…
Like someone moaning through a gag?
Then a tearing sound, the tearing of fabric.
“Tolt ya she don’t have much fer tits.”
“And lookit all them dick-stupid tattoos.”
Veronica’s eyes turned to Helton.
“Hon, take some advise. It’s best ya don’t even wonder ’bout what’s goin’ on in back,” the large man said her in a subdued voice. “Buts I do need ta ‘splain a tad more to ya. See, there’s this man named Paulie…”
“Paulie,” she repeated. “The man who gave you a cellphone.”
“Right. And he’s in what’cha call the MAFF-ee-uh—”
Veronica frowned in the tinseled darkness.
“—he’s like a big crime boss and, well, what he did is he murdered my grandboy Crory in a way too awful to describe’n after that? He made a movin’ picture of the murder and he send it to us…”
Snuff film, she deduced.
“So’s now? Now we’se gettin’ proper revenge by doin’ somethin’ just as awful to one’a his kin.”
Veronica voiced her next deduction. “And you’re going to film that, and send the video clip to him. That’s why you bought the Sony.”
Helton nodded, hefting up the big camera. “Only way li’l Crory can rest in peace is if’n we’se revenge his evil murder. We ain’t city folk like you, we’re hill folk. It’s just the way things’re done out here.” He turned the dim dome light on up front, then leaned over with the camera. “I knows ya showed me before, but I need ya ta show me again. How’s this thing work?”
Veronica exhaled more exasperation, then took the camera, flicked some switches, then passed it back to him. “There. It’s all set to record. When you’re ready, just push the button on the grip, the light comes on, and you’re rolling.”
Helton took it back, impressed. “And then it all gets put on—”
She pointed to the slot. “On the doohicky. The entire video clip you record—the moving picture—gets saved to the doohicky.”
“Dandy! Thanks!” but then he paused as if in speculation. “Just lemme ask you somethin’ now. When you was little, did yer Maw or Paw ever tell you the old Bible story ’bout a fella in olden times named Lot and his wife Edith?”
In the continuous whirlpool of turmoil, Veronica could scarcely collate the question. “Uh, I don’t know. Something about Sodom and Gomorrah?”
“Right!” Helton enlivened. “Them was the two cities that invented butt-fuckin’, see, and God, he got all shore-fire pissed ’cos all the folks in these cities, all they did was butt-fuck, and that offended God, so God, He decided ta open a giant can’a whup-ass on them cities and just up’n destroy ’em with fire’n brimstone. But, see, there was two folks there who didn’t do no butt-fuckin—Lot and his wife Edith. They believed in God and they didn’t never offend Him, so God sent a angel to tell Lot’n Edith ta git out’a town so’s they wouldn’t git kilt along with all them sinners—Soddermites, I’se think they was called—so, shit, Lot and Edith packed up and split ’cos there weren’t no way they was gonna disobey a messenger’a God, but ‘fore they left, the angel tolt ’em that no matter what they do while they’re leavin’, they shore as shit better not look back, no matter what kind’a hell-raisin’ they might hear comin’ from them two cities. Shore enough,
they’se walkin’ away and alls a sudden they hear a commotion like they never heard’n screamin’n burnin’ and temples collapsin’n what not, and Lot, he wants to look back but he didn’t ’cos he remember what the angel said, but Edith…” Helton shrugged. “Shee-it, Edith—just like a woman—she figger there cain’t be no harm in lookin’ back’n seein’ what’s goin’ and on, so she did, and”—Helton cracked! his hands together—“and right then’n there she turnt into a pillar’a salt!”
Veronica felt flabbergasted. “Helton, why are you telling me old Bible stories?”
Helton seemed suddenly disquieted. “Well, now, see, you’re no doubt gonna hear some mighty peculiar noises’n carryin’ on comin’ from the back, and what I wanna impress upon ya is that under no circumstances should you take a peek past this shower curtain, no matter how bad ya wanna look.” Helton gulped. “‘Cos if’n ya do—”
“I’m going to turn into a pillar of salt?”
Helton stared at her. “Ya just might, hon. Ya dag-straight just might,” then he stuck two balled up bits of cotton in her ears, pointed her face forward, hoisted the Sony, and disappeared behind the curtain.
««—»»
A semi-mute, inscrutable nightmare ensued. Veronica kept her eyes wide on the nighted woods beyond the windshield, and in spite of the make-shift earplugs, sounds galore, however muffled, could be detected, the most salient of which was the loud whine of a power tool. This abated rather quickly, followed by silence.
They’ve killed her, she knew, her stomach shriveling. With the power drill… Could she hear words through the cotton? She removed one plug…
“—fer our peckers,” Helton said.
One of the others said, “Dang!”
“Ain’t as much blood as you’d think…”
Veronica stuck the plug back in. My God my God my God! More muffled noises followed, some hoots and hollers, then thunking. Then she heard, at a higher pitch, “Yeah! Eeeeeee-YEAH! Git it, Dumar!
For a moment, Veronica thought of Lot’s wife, Edith, for part of her volition did indeed urge her to steal a peek behind those curtains…
But she didn’t.
In another minute, however, she removed the earplug again—
“Hump it! I say hump it!” Helton raged amid a rapid thunking.
Veronica put back the plug.
The black and white of it socked right into her brain: They’ve just murdered a girl with a power drill. They’re having sex with the corpse. She gulped. And they’re filming it with the camera I sold them…
Eventually the dim commotion ceased and Helton pushed through the curtain, bearing the big Sony. He pulled out her cotton balls. “We’se all done, sweetie”—he looked at the camera—“I shore hope I did this right. You shore the movin’ picture’s on here now?”
She flicked the dome light back on and took the camera. “Yep,” she said, trying as best she could to sound normal, to sound like she had no idea what went on back there. “The properties bar says that 19 minutes of space have been used on the memory card.” She snapped it from the slot and handed it to him. “The doohicky.”
“Well that’s just peachy, Veronnerka!” but then he scratched his beard. “Now all’s I gotta do is think’a the best way ta git the doohicky to Paulie, so’s he can watch the movie…”
The SNUFF movie, she corrected with a chill. Again, she struggled to act normal, unaffected, as though she had no clue as to what they’d actually done. “You could leave it in his mailbox—”
“Naw. He wife’s house is just over yonder but…the fella there’s more’n likely calt the police by now.”
Act normal!
“Then send it to him through the mail.”
Helton seemed doubtful. “I’se guess we could but—jiminy, hon—we want him to have it soon as possible.”
“How about leaving it someplace and calling him up and telling him where to find it. Do you have his phone number?”
Helton winced. “Aw, see, he calt us once”—he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone—“on this here cellphone he had delivered to our house, but he never give us his number.”
Veronica frowned. “Didn’t you say that this man Paulie was also a crime lord? In the Mafia?”
“Well, yeah, hon.”
“If he really is into organized crime, then he surely has some mode of internet access—”
“Huh? Oh, you mean ‘puters’n all that?”
‘Puters. My God. “Yes. Does he have a computer with email access?”
Helton looked mystified. “Shee-it. I gots no idea.”
“He must. Of course, he might not want to give you his email address, but I can create a screen name for him on my account, tell him the eddress, then he can download the movie himself. Right now.”
“Don’t know what’cher talkin’ ’bout, darlin’,” Helton said with enthusiasm, “but if’n you could make it so he could see our movin’ picture right now, why, I’d be so dang happy…”
“Happy enough to let me go?” she dared to ask.
“Why, shore!”
Veronica reached around. “I’m just getting my laptop,” she said and lifted her knapsack off the floor behind her.
“Lap…what?”
“It’s a portable computer,” she wearily explained, “that has a mobile-wireless card. If you want Paulie to see the movie, you have to let me use my laptop.”
“Well, fine. Go on ahead,” and then he watched in confused fascination as she extracted the laptop, booted it up, and went online. It took less than five minutes to create the guest-account, download the video clip from the memory card, and email it. “Now,” she said. “Call Paulie back on the phone he sent you.”
“I done tolt ya, hon. He didn’t gimme no number.”
Veronica sighed. “If he called you on it, the number’s on the phone. Was he the last person to call you?”
Helton frowned at the tiny phone. “Well, yeah. He’s the only one ta call us on it.”
“Then highlight the number and push the call button.” How can people be so OBLIVIOUS! she thought. “Here. I’ll call him,” and she took the phone from Helton’s huge hand, hit the number of the last call, and listened.
“Yeah?” a gruff voice answered. A Jersey accent.
“I’d like to speak to Paulie, please,” Veronica said.
“Who the fuck is this? You Tuckton’s whore or somethin’?”
Veronica hated foul language. “My name’s Veronica. I’m calling on behalf of a man named Helton—”
“You fuckin’ asshole! What’d’ya want!”
Appalled, Veronica covered the mouth-piece and whispered, “He’s very rude. He called me an asshole, and he doesn’t even know me!” She resumed the call. “I’d just like to talk to Paulie—”
“He’s asleep!”
“Well, I have an email for you. Do you have internet access?”
“Of course, you stupid broad! We’re in the Mob! We got dozens of blinded email accounts,” the man bellowed.
“Would you please stop yelling!” she shrilled in response. “I’m trying to give you information! Get a pen and piece of paper, please!”
A moment passed, then, “All right, I got it! Now what the fuck do you want?”
Veronica grew infuriated. The nerve of some people! “Go to AOL-dot-com, click the guest box. I’ve created a screen name for you on my account. Got it so far?”
“Yeah! Who the fuck are you!”
Veronica rolled her eyes. “Your screen name is Pauliecrimeguy and your password is your cellphone number.”
A pause. “What the fuck is this all about!”
“I’ve sent you an attachment from Helton,” she continued, tempering herself. “Go to your in-box and download the attachment.”
“What’s the attachment!”
“A digital video file—”
click
The connection severed. “He hung up!” Veronica snapped. “That was the rudest man!”
&n
bsp; But Helton seemed concerned. “So’s…how do we know he got the movin’ picture?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll get it, all right. And I have a funny feeling that when he does…” Veronica gulped. “He’ll be calling you back real fast…”