One Among Us

by Paige Dearth

  “Cali? We have a problem,” she said with concern.

  “What, Mags? What’s wrong with him?”

  “I think John William ruptured his spleen. From everything I know, I think he’s bleeding internally. If he doesn’t go to the hospital, he’ll die, Cali,” Maggie cried.

  “Is there anything you can do to help him? Come on, Mags. Think! What did your books tell you to do?” Cali asked, panicked.

  “There’s nothing I can do, Cali. He needs surgery by a real doctor. That’s the only thing that can be done. But he doesn’t have a lot of time,” she added.

  “How long? How long can he live?” Cali asked impatiently.

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know,” Maggie stated in anger.

  Maggie lay on the floor of Max’s cell, her body up against his. She put her arm around him and waited. There was nothing to do now but pray. John William came back a few hours later and found them. Maggie woke, feeling someone watching her.

  “John William, Max needs to go to the hospital. I think you ruptured his spleen.” Maggie pulled up Max’s shirt, exposing his belly, which bulged with the blood that filled it. Suddenly, Max threw up, and blood splattered across the dirt floor of the kennel.

  “He ain’t going to no hospital. So you better think about all that shit you read and fix him up real fast,” John William snarled at her.

  “I can’t! I can’t fix him. Only a doctor can fix him. He’s going to bleed to death,” she pleaded.

  John William opened Max’s kennel. “Let’s go! Back to your own place,” he said menacingly.

  “Please let me stay with him. Please, John William. Just tonight. I swear I’ll do whatever you want. Please,” Maggie begged.

  “Anything? You’ll do whatever I want, huh?” he sneered. “You’ll do whatever I want just because I say so. You get that through your stupid little head.” Then he paused, not to think, but to build her anxiety. “OK, you can stay with him tonight, but you owe me, and I always get paid.” He chuckled as he heaved himself back up the stairs.

  “Mags?” Cali called out. “What’s going to happen to Max?”

  “I don’t know for sure, Cali. I don’t even know if his spleen is ruptured,” she responded in a defeated voice.

  Then Maggie lay facing Max. She snuggled up to him as close as she could get. Putting her arm around him, she began to tell him a story. It was the Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain, a story that Max had begged her to tell him repeatedly during their years of bondage. Max was hooked on Tom Sawyer’s story and his ability to believe in his own daydreams and allow his imagination to become his reality.

  Tears streamed down Maggie’s cheeks as she told Max the classic tale. Every so often, when Maggie got to Max’s favorite parts of the book, he would look up at her and smile. When she finished telling him the story, she silently held him in her arms.

  “Tell me the story about my dad, Maggie, please,” Max asked softly.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Do you remember when you were nine years old and your dad took you hunting for the first time? The two of you drove a couple of hours to your cabin in the middle of Pennsylvania. On your way, there was a blizzard as you started to drive up the mountain. The two of you couldn’t see past the hood of the car, the snow was falling so fast. Your dad was driving slower than you could walk because he couldn’t see the road anymore, and to the right, there was a cliff that dropped to the bottom of the mountain. It took you hours to reach the top of the mountain. But you and your dad treated it like a great adventure, a matter of survival. When you finally got to the cabin, you made a fire in the fireplace and drank hot chocolate.” Maggie paused to give him time to acknowledge the memory.

  “I remember, Maggie. Keep going,” Max managed.

  “Well, the next morning after breakfast, your dad took you into the woods to hunt. You were lying on the ground behind a fallen tree, waiting for the deer to come out. It started to snow again, and you rolled onto your back and looked up into the sky past the huge trees. It was like you were transported to another world as you watched the snowflakes falling through the trees. You could hear the sounds of tree branches rattling and pine needles shifting as the wind shuffled them around. Man, Max, you were at total peace. You loved it there. You loved being one with nature.”

  Maggie stopped and brushed the hair back from Max’s eyes. Her hand glided over his face and forehead in a gesture that reminded Max of his mother.

  Max’s eyes welled up. “Don’t stop, Maggie. Finish the story,” he urged.

  Maggie tried hard to be brave for Max. But eventually, she let herself feel all the emotions that were pent up inside of her as she finished his story. “While you were looking up at the sky, your dad was high up in a tree nearby. Suddenly, you heard footsteps, and you were jolted back to reality. Your dad was standing over you, looking down with a puzzled look on his face. He said, ‘Did you see the deer? He was standing fifteen feet from you, son. It was a clear shot.’

  “Embarrassed and worried you had disappointed your dad, you told him you hadn’t seen the deer because you were watching the snow fall from the sky. Then you held your breath, Max, just waiting for him to be mad that you weren’t hunting the way he’d taught you to. Instead, your dad got down on his knees. Silently, he stretched out right next to you. He looked up into the sky for a while. You both did, watching the beauty unfold around you. The two of you listened to the odd sounds, and you could smell the pine trees and wood smoke from other cabins in the distance. Then your dad rolled onto his side and propped his head up in his hand.

  “‘Son,’ he said, ‘I’ve been coming out for many years—since I was your age—but I never noticed how alive I could feel until right now. Sometimes, we are so focused on what we want that we are blind to the things that make us happy. Like lying here with my son, watching the snowflakes fall. It’s just incredible, and when I focus on what is right in front of me, nothing else matters. All my worries vanish. Thank you, Max. If you hadn’t told me why you missed the deer, if you had lied, thinking I would be upset, I would never have been able to live this moment with you.’”

  Maggie’s voice trailed off.

  Tears were streaming from Max’s eyes and running down the sides of his face as the memory of his loving father played in his mind. His father was devoted to his mother and him. He was a good-natured man, and Max adored him.

  Finally, Max opened his eyes, but his lids were heavy. “Thank you, Maggie,” he said.

  Maggie laid her head gingerly on his chest and put her arm around him. She heard the beating of his heart, and as the minutes wore on, his heartbeats grew weaker and slower. Before he lost all consciousness, Maggie propped herself up on one elbow and looked into his face. “Max, I love you. You’re the best big brother a girl could ever hope for. You’re finally going to be happy, Max. You’re going to be free,” she croaked.

  Max was too tired to open his eyes, but he squeezed her hand lightly. “I love you,” he mouthed, his voice too weak to pass through his lips.

  Putting her head back on Max’s chest, Maggie closed her eyes and focused on the diminishing rhythm of the drum that played inside his chest, until his heart beat for the very last time.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Maggie was sobbing, her chest rising and falling so hard that she clutched at her ribs to steady them. The sounds that came from her made the others go silent.

  After several long minutes, Shana spoke. “Is he dead, Maggie?”

  “Yeah, Shana. He’s gone,” she bawled.

  Shana was crying openly. “Do you think he was in a lot of pain?”

  “No, Shana. He didn’t know what was happening. He couldn’t feel anything,” Maggie lied, wanting to give the others some comfort.

  “Cali?” Maggie called.

  “Yeah, Mags?” Cali responded through chest-thumping sobs.

  “Are you OK? He knew that we all loved him, and he loved all of us too,” Maggie offered. They were all hurt
ing. Each of them had lost a brother. All they had was each other, and now, one of them was gone.

  “I know, Mags. I know,” Cali confirmed, allowing herself to mourn openly.

  “Aggie?” Seth called out from his kennel.

  “Yeah, Seth?” she asked, wondering how he would be able to handle this loss.

  “Is Max gonna come back?” he asked hopefully.

  “No, Max died, honey. He’s in heaven now, with God,” Maggie explained.

  “Are you going to die too?” Seth asked in a quivering voice, horrified at the thought of losing her too.

  “No, Seth. I’m not going to die. I’m staying right here with you,” she stated, wishing she had some control over keeping the promise she’d just made to him.

  “Aggie, when I grow up, will I go hunting with my dad like Max did?” Seth asked, having felt like he was a part of the story Maggie told.

  “I don’t know, Seth. Maybe. Or, maybe you’ll have different stories that make you feel good. Something that’s all yours and that makes you feel special the way Max’s story made him feel special,” she explained, trying to sound optimistic despite her deep despair.

  “OK, I like that too. Aggie, do you love me as much as you love Max?” Seth asked, feeling vulnerable and alone in his kennel.

  “Of course I do, Seth. I love you even more,” she added, hoping to relieve some of his anguish.

  It wasn’t long after Max died that John William’s feet were banging down the wooden stairs. He stood at the door of Max’s kennel and looked at Maggie, lying next to the boy with her arm and leg covering him. “Let’s go. Time for you to go back to your own kennel, you filthy little animal,” he grunted at Maggie.

  Maggie jolted upright. “Max is dead!” she screamed. “You killed him, John William. You killed Max, and I hate your guts! I hope you die!”

  If John William weren’t so shocked to learn that Max had died, he would have beaten the hell out of her for the way she was yelling at him. Instead, he stood dumbfounded, wondering how the little wimp had died from a beating. Returning to his senses, he opened the locked door. “Come on. Back to your own space,” he stated.

  Once Maggie was back in her kennel, she rushed over to the side where Cali was sitting, and the two girls locked fingers through the chain link fence. They both leaned their heads against the fence, trying their best to have as much human contact as possible.

  John William went back to Max’s kennel, lifted Max’s feet, and humped the dead teen across the dirt floor. He stopped, still hunched over, to give Cali and Maggie a sinister smile. He dragged Max over to the far corner of the basement. From under the wooden stairs, John William pulled out a shovel and began to dig Max’s grave. When he was finished, he rolled Max’s body into the hole. The corpse hit the bottom with a thud. John William slowly covered the body with dirt, threw down the shovel, and started toward the stairs. “We have clients coming soon. You bitches better get your shit together,” he yelled.

  That night, after Dr. Barnes was finished with her, Maggie looked him square in the face. “Dr. Barnes, I need some more books. I want more books on medical stuff. You know, how to fix people,” she said carefully.

  “Of course, of course. Oh, I just love it when little ones want to learn. I’ll bring them to you next week,” he sang.

  Maggie was on a mission. She wanted to know as much about the human body as possible. “Oh, and one other thing,” she asked the good doctor. “Can you bring me the book, Harold and the Purple Crayon?” Maggie wanted to help Seth use his imagination to begin to make his own wonderful memories.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Myles was very angry to hear that Max had died. John William explained that it was an accident that happened during the boy’s punishment for killing Marsh. But an ominous feeling settled over Myles that this group of kids was jinxed. First, there was the bitch detective who had handed notes to Maggie and now there was Max’s death. His instincts told him to cut his losses. There was too much at stake for him to worry about the four who remained.

  “It’s time to shake things up with this little group of misfits. I want you to reach out to our regulars. Get the ball rolling to sell these little shits off,” Myles instructed John William.

  “Are you sure about this?” John William prodded, not wanting to start all over again with a new group. He knew that if the kids he had taken were sold, then he would be back out on the street again, finding new ones. He liked the hunt and capture, but he cherished the power he wielded over his group more.

  “Yeah, I’m fucking sure! What didn’t you understand? Let me be clear. I want you to get some buyers in here, pronto. Call a couple of scabs from Camden, Philly, and Maryland. I want to be sure to find buyers for all of them. As for the little boy, I don’t really care ’cause he ain’t worth a pint of piss. Just get it done,” Myles said.

  On his way to the basement, John William thought about the guys he would call later that day.

  “Listen,” John William said when he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Things are gonna change around here. Cali, you’re gonna get these rodents ready for some show time. We’re filming tonight,” he said, throwing a box of sexy lingerie into her kennel. Then he escorted Maggie and Shana into Cali’s small prison.

  “Why do we have to wear these?” Cali asked, suspicious of John William’s intentions.

  “Excuse me? Are you questioning what I’m telling you to do? Do you wanna end up like your little friend, Max, over there?” he sneered, looking over at the grave in the corner of the basement.

  His tone gave Cali pause. “No, I was just wondering. OK, girls, let’s see what’s in the box,” she said.

  Cali put together outfits for each of them. They were all nervous. Any change in the normal routine made them anxious. After the girls were dressed, they stood in Cali’s kennel looking at each other.

  “You look disgusting,” Shana told Maggie.

  Maggie crossed her arms over her chest. She was already self-conscious about the outfit she was wearing and susceptible to ridicule. “I know I look disgusting,” Maggie retorted. “I feel disgusting too. And so should you. We’re just their little playthings, and being dressed like this makes it worse.”

  Maggie looked down at her body. She was wearing a corset, her undeveloped breasts lost in the cups of the top. The garter belt was too big and lay limply on her hips, making the attached stockings baggy on her long, thin legs. She glanced at Cali, who looked like a Victoria Secret model in her see-through baby-doll slip with a built-in push-up bra. Then she scanned Shana, who wore a mesh teddy. It looked like a one-piece bathing suit without all the material. The roundness of her full breasts poked out of the sides of the triangular cups. Maggie glanced at her legs, which bore the scars of days gone by in this life of punishment.

  Shana snorted. “I told you two fools if you took some of the hillbilly heroin, you wouldn’t feel so bad all the time. You’re both idiots. It’s easier to deal with this shit stoned. At least I can’t remember half the shit that’s happening. And another thing, Maggie, ain’t nothing gonna change the fact that we’re their little playthings, so give it rest. You’re so fuckin’ annoying with your goody-two-shoes routine.”

  Deep down, Shana felt all of the same things that Maggie did. She refused, however, to let anyone know. Her rough exterior was what kept her going. The drugs had numbed her mind and made her circumstances easier to accept. But she wanted to be free just as much as the others did.

  A short time later, John William took the three girls upstairs. Each of them was filmed alone while the other two watched. Maggie was horrified when it was her turn. She had never been filmed by herself. With the other kids, she felt shielded from the camera in the mass of human flesh, but tonight she was there for everyone to see. She recited her lines as instructed. “Please pick me,” she whispered. “I’ll do whatever you want, and I’m worth every cent. Just choose me, and I’ll show you.”

  Maggie’s little plea to be picked w
ould cause quite a stir among the local pimps who came to the house to view the film a week later.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Shana was sold first, since she was the least valuable. A pimp from Camden, New Jersey, bought her for one thousand dollars.

  When the men arrived to pick her up, John William went into the basement and opened Shana’s kennel. “Let’s go, bitch. You’ve been bought,” he barked.

  “Ha! See,” Shana said, turning to the other two girls. “I am the hottest one.” Then she turned to John William. “You have any dope for me?” She leaned in. “It’ll help me sleep when I get back down here.”

  “You’re not coming back down here. You’ve been sold. As in, you’re leaving with your new pimp to work the streets of Camden. Man, is your new boss gonna have a good time getting you under control. You were worthless to us at the auction. Your new boss, he ain’t as nice as me…he ain’t gonna let you do him for dope. You’ll do him so that he doesn’t kill you,” John William said, tormenting her.

  Shana looked terror-stricken. “Cali,” she cried, “please don’t let them take me. Please.”

  Shana turned back to John William and fell to her knees. She grabbed at his jeans. “Oh God. Please, John William. I don’t want to go. I wanna stay with the others.”

  John William laughed. “Nobody cares what you want. You’re a little crack ho, and this is where girls like you end up: in the shit hole of the earth.” Then he put his large, slimy hand over her face and pushed her off him. She landed on her back on the dirt floor. She shuffled on her hands and knees as fast as possible to Cali’s kennel.

  Cali put her fingers through the chain link fence. “I’m so sorry, Shana. I’m so, so sorry,” Cali told her.

  “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay here with you guys,” Shana cried.

  “Shana,” Maggie stated in a firm voice. “I don’t want you to go.”