*
I spent Tuesday cleaning my apartment. I marinated the steaks, washed the potatoes, made the salad, and put it in a Tupperware container. I washed wine glasses, scrubbed the toilet, cleaned my barbecue grill, swept the deck, and dusted the swing and rockers. Then I took a long bath, washed my hair and dried it, brushed my teeth twice, and put on a little make-up. I dressed in jeans, a short-sleeved polo shirt and sandals. Then I paced and waited. I'd bought candles, so I stacked them, then placed them in various places around the room, then gathered them up again.
My phone rang at four o'clock. It was Luke, who said he'd arrived in Jean Ville before the others and had already checked into his motel. He wanted to know if it was too early to come over.
"What about your meeting?" I held the phone to my ear and looked around my apartment, trying to visualize what he might see when he got here.
"We met before I left Baton Rouge." I loved the sound of his deep, raspy voice. It had just enough Southern drawl to be sexy and enough straight talk to sound intelligent. "We'll have a briefing at breakfast, before we head to the courthouse."
"Sure. You can come over." I checked to make sure everything was ready and was actually glad I didn't have to obsess for another two or three hours.
"See you in a few minutes."
After we hung up, I looked out of the front windows at Gravier Road in case his car might already be there. I washed my hands and made another pass through the apartment to make sure everything was in place. I spread the candles out again, all seven of them. I washed my hands and reminded myself that I had cold beer, red and white wine, sodas, and I'd bought a bottle of Crown Royal because that's what Luke had ordered at Gino's.
I washed my hands again and took out the tortilla chips and spinach dip I'd bought at the store, and poured some salsa in a bowl. I set the food on the island and tried not to wash my hands again. Then I paced. I walked out on the deck, then came back in. I left the sliding glass doors opened since it was pleasant outside, and I liked the way it made my place feel big and spacious.
I heard his car drive up, and I stepped onto the landing. He looked up and saw me smiling down at him, and he took the stairs two at a time. When he reached me, he folded me in his arms and kissed me. When he pulled away, he was out of breath. I heard another vehicle pull in my driveway and saw Warren's new red truck stop, idle for a minute, then back out onto Gravier Road. I'd been caught red-handed, but didn't care.
Luke followed me through the side door into the kitchen and looked around my apartment.
"It looks like you, Sissy." He smiled at me and walked slowly around the living room and kitchen that was one big room from the front of the garage to the back. The garage itself held two cars and had room for lawn equipment, so the living area was over half of the garage, the other half, which comprised a large bedroom, a bathroom, and a study, was over the other half.
"Do you want something to drink?" I moved towards the refrigerator. The bottle of Crown Royal was on the island next to the dip and chips. He sat on a stool and asked for a glass of ice. He poured some Crown over the ice and dipped a chip in the salsa. I poured myself a glass of Chardonnay and asked if he'd like to sit on the deck. We walked through the opened glass doors, and he stood at the railing and looked out at the acre of land with its rows of trees: pecan, pear, fig, oaks, and magnolias.
"What a view." He didn't turn around.
"My favorite room in the house." I walked up to the railing and stood next to him. He put an arm over my shoulder, and we just stood there and breathed the fall air, stared at the sun that hovered above the trees, and listened to the birds calling to each other. My shoulder was tucked under his arm, and I got a whiff of his aftershave. He set his drink on the top of the railing, turned to face me, put his arms around me, and pulled me to him. I let him. He just held me and rested his chin on the top of my head. I could feel his heartbeat against my neck as though the rhythm was trying to talk to me. I listened intently and felt a sense of sadness or impending pain, like something that was just beginning, might have to end.
I tried to shake off the feeling.
The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. Luke grilled the steaks, and I put the potatoes in the oven. I had a loaf of French bread that I buttered and wrapped in foil and put in the oven with the potatoes. I dressed the salad, and we ate at the island on the bar stools. It was about ten o'clock when he left. I took a quick shower, checked to make sure the doors were locked, and went to bed.
*
My digital clock said 2:03 AM when I awoke to a clinking sound, followed by crunching. Before I was completely awake, someone appeared next to my bed and pulled a cloth, like a sack, over my head, tied my arms behind my back, and dragged me to the floor. I kicked and screamed, but it didn't stop the person from pounding my head with a fist and kicking me. I felt like I'd fallen into a deep, dark well, where there were people with clubs taking turns whacking me. There was a coarse, wet laugh, a belch, the smell of beer or whiskey, cigarette breath, and strong body odor.
I fell deeper, and in my dream, I smelled burning rubber and gasoline creep under the doors and through the cracks in the windows and fill the room. I heard the sound of an eighteen-wheeler come through my apartment, blowing the air horn and grinding the gears. The sound got louder and louder, and I could smell diesel fuel and grease, then I was enveloped in a cloud.
The roar got louder, the smells got stronger, and I tasted bile and salt. Then I couldn't swallow.
A searing pain shot into my belly from between my legs and I felt myself try to scream, but there was no sound other than the roaring in my ears and a loud grunt from somewhere above me. It felt like a hot branding iron had been poked inside me, and there was a weight on my chest that I could have sworn was a load of bricks. I couldn't breathe and gasped for air. The cloth around my head clogged my nose, and I began to suffocate. When I tried to breathe through my mouth, I tasted bile and blood.
Then everything went black.
*
There was an incessant ringing. It would stop for a few seconds then start again. I tried to wake up so I could identify where the ringing came from. My hands were tied behind my back, but I began to twist them around and was able to pull one through the loop in the rope. I reached up and yanked on the fabric that covered my head, and saw that it was a bloody pillowcase. I freed my other hand and sat on the floor, propped against my bed. I was totally naked.
The digital clock said 8:42 AM. The ringing started again, and I realized it was the telephone. I tried to stand up, but my legs were so weak they folded under me. There was blood all over the floor, and I tracked it as I crawled to the bathroom on hands and knees and pulled myself up by hanging on the lavatory. What I saw in the mirror made my stomach turn over. I started to vomit and held my head over the toilet.
When I finally stopped retching, I made my way to the kitchen and tried to pick up the receiver on the telephone. I needed to call someone for help, but who could I call? Daddy didn't drive. James would be at work, maybe in court. Warren? He worked on the highway and couldn't be reached during the day. My only option seemed 9-1-1, but I didn't want the publicity that would create. I hung up the phone.
What had happened? I tried to remember. I was asleep.
I looked at the kitchen door that led to the outside landing. One of the panes was broken, and there were shards of glass on the floor. I remembered the clinking, crunching sounds that woke me.
I got a ziplock bag from the drawer and filled it with ice. I laid on the sofa and put the ice on my face. My eyes were black, my nose felt like it was broken, and one of my teeth was chipped. I felt a burning between my legs, hot and searing, like a curling iron had been inserted in my vagina.
The phone started to ring again, and I slowly made my way back to the kitchen. It hung on the wall next to the door to the landing, and just when I got to it, the ringing stopped. I started to make my way back to the sofa when the ri
nging started again.
"Hello." I didn't recognize my own voice, it was almost a whisper, and riddled with something like mucus or blood.
"Sissy? Is that you?" His voice was deep and raspy, and I recognized it, but couldn't place it.
"Yes. Who's this?"
"It's Luke. Are you alright?"
"Luke?" I tried to remember. Yes, Luke had been at my place the night before. Had he done this to me? Suddenly I was afraid of him. I hung up the phone. It rang again. I was afraid to pick it up. I made my way back to the sofa and put the ice on my face. I heard a car pull up in my driveway, but I was helpless. If someone were going to beat me up again, they'd have to kill me, because I couldn't defend myself. I couldn't even yell or talk or beg.
I heard the kitchen door open, and I lay paralyzed, waiting for whoever was there to finish me off.
"Sissy!" I thought I recognized Luke's voice, and it scared me, but I lay there and waited for the blows. "Oh, my God. What happened?" He knelt beside the sofa and lifted the ice pack. He picked me up like a bride and carried me out of the apartment, down the stairs, and put me in the back seat of his car. I couldn't move.
I must have fallen asleep, then I felt a bevy of humans hovering over me. The air was cold and smelled of antiseptic, rubbing alcohol, and Lysol. A familiar fatherly voice came through the chatter.
"Sissy. It's me, Dr. David." I could smell the cigar smoke on his clothing, and I tried to open my eyes to look at him, but they were swollen shut. "Nancy, get the police here. NOW!"
"Sissy. Can you hear me?" He bent towards me, and his breath smelled like coffee and bacon. I could hear him, but I couldn't talk. My mouth was swollen inside, and I tasted blood and salt. "Do you know who did this to you?"
I shook my head side-to-side in very tiny movements to indicate, "No."
"Who's the man who brought you here?" Dr. David hovered over me. I shook my head side-to-side again to indicate I didn't know.
"I'm Lucas McMath, Doctor. I'm with the attorney general's office in Baton Rouge." His voice started to make sense to me, and I listened to his explanation. "I'm here for a hearing in Judge DeYoung’s Courtroom in the Thevenot-Rousseau case. I'm Sissy's friend. We had dinner at her place last night. I left about ten and tried to call her at least a dozen times this morning to thank her, but she didn't answer her phone, so I went to her place and found her like this." He took a deep breath and choked back tears. "Will she be okay? Should I contact someone?"
"I'll call her dad. We're neighbors. Do you have any idea who did this?" Dr. Switzer pointed a light in my eyes. He had to pry them open to do it, and it hurt.
"No, sir. I couldn't guess." It sounded like Luke was standing at the foot of my gurney. I figured I was in the Emergency Room.
Someone started an IV, and I heard Dr. Switzer say I was going to feel more relaxed soon. Within seconds, I drifted off. When I awoke, I was in a hospital room. There was a hissing sound, and something was clicking like a clock, and the smell was less antiseptic, more like cleaning supplies. I could feel someone's presence and tried to open my eyes. One of them opened a slit, and I saw my dad in a rocker in the corner of the room. I must have grunted because he appeared at the side of my bed and asked if I wanted water. I nodded, and he put a straw to my lips.
"Who did this to you, Sissy?" He put the glass on the side table and took one of my hands out from under the sheet. I shook my head side-to-side. "The police have been to your apartment. They say it looked like someone broke the glass in your door to enter and that there was a bloody pillowcase and a rope on the floor next to your bed. Blood everywhere. They took samples, and by the looks of you, I'm guessing it will be your blood."
I couldn't talk, but I tried to piece together what had happened. Daddy bent his head to my mouth so he could hear. I told him that I had heard a clinking, crunching sound, and looked at my clock. "It was two o'clock in the morning, and someone put the pillowcase over my head and tied my hands. Then they beat me, kicked me, and God knows what else. At some point, I blacked out." The swelling inside my mouth made my words slur.
I'm not sure how much Daddy understood, but he nodded his head and told me I should get some rest. I heard him mutter, "Cowardly sons-of-bitches. They cover her head while they beat and rape her. Damn them. When I catch those bastards…" He walked out of my room, and I heard him talking to someone in the hall.
I dozed off and on all day, and Daddy mostly sat in the rocker and would give me sips of water every now and again. I heard him use the phone a few times. It sounded like he talked to Susie once, and James.
Luke came to my room at some point. I heard him talk to Daddy, who left. Luke stood beside my bed and held my hand and tried to talk to me. When I attempted to answer his questions, he put his ear to my mouth and listened.
"Don't try to talk unless you can give me an idea of who might have done this." He bent his head, and I tried to tell him whoever did it covered my head and never said a word. I said it felt like more than one person, but that I wasn't sure. I had my suspicions. I'd been worried that if Thevenot and Rousseau got out of jail, they would want to take revenge on me for stirring things up and getting the attorney general to take the case. But I didn't say that to anyone, nor did I mention that Warren had pulled up in my driveway and saw me kissing Luke, nor did I tell anyone about the warning note on my windshield.
*
It was a long week, but every day I was a little better. By Wednesday, the swelling inside my mouth was much less, and I could form some sounds. One of my eyes was halfway opened, and I could manage to open the other one a slit if I strained. My left wrist was broken and was in a cast, and I had stitches in various places on my neck, legs, arms, and back. The burning between my legs disappeared, but I felt a heaviness down there.
Daddy spent most days in the rocking chair in my room and was diligent about giving me sips of water, then 7-Up, which tasted really good. I guess someone called Mama, because she sauntered into my room Wednesday evening, jingling her bracelets and swishing her skirts. She was civil to Daddy, who left the room while she stayed with me. She read to me from some of her poetry books, and I felt as though she had me confused with Susie, the English major who loved that stuff; but it was comforting to hear Mama's voice. She came back Thursday morning and stayed until about noon. She told me she was going back to Houston and would come back to help me when I went home if I needed her.
By Thursday afternoon, I was able to get up and walk to the bathroom, so they removed the catheter. That was a relief. Friday, I ate some Jell-O and soup broth, so they took the IV out.
Luke came back Friday evening. He spent the night in the chair in my room even though I begged him to go to my apartment and get a good night's sleep. I'd never seen anyone so worried.
Saturday morning, they finally brought me real food: scrambled eggs, grits, and best of all, coffee. Luke stirred sugar and cream into my coffee and helped me take sips of it. I swallowed it, even though it burned the inside of my mouth. It made me feel like I was heading back to normality.
Luke sat on the side of my bed and put his hands on either side of my face. He whispered that he wanted to kiss me, but he knew it would hurt. He said he'd never been so scared and worried in his life. He said he thought, at first, that I was going to die, and that he'd relived Sheila's death a million times over.
"What do you remember about what happened?" He was so close to my face that I could taste the coffee on his breath. I told him what I remembered. He asked me if I suspected anyone. I said, "No."
"Did you smell anything?" Luke's voice was so comforting. I remember I'd initially thought it might have been him, but I knew now that he could never hurt me, or anyone, for that matter. "I mean, did you recognize someone's odor or anything? Did he grunt or make any sounds that you remember? Try to think of any little thing, something you heard, or tasted, or smelled, or felt."
I concentrated and could remember some things: a strong body odor, like
someone who hadn't taken a bath for a week. Cigarette breath. Grease. Diesel fuel. Beer. Grunts, like a hog being butchered. A wet, throaty laugh. I realized there had been two different laughs, one higher pitched. But I didn't tell Luke any of those things, I just held onto the thoughts and wondered whose penis had been inside me. I wanted to vomit when I thought about it.
Luke agreed to stay at my apartment Saturday evening to get some rest, and I thought about the rape all night. By Sunday morning, I was pretty sure I knew who did it. Luke was right: I had recognized some sounds and smells.
*
Dr. David let me go home Sunday afternoon, and Luke took me in his car, carried me up the stairs, and put me in my bed. He said he had washed the sheets after he'd slept on them. He spent the night in my study on the pullout sofa bed and left early the next morning to drive to Baton Rouge. Mama showed up as if by magic on Monday at noon and stayed until Wednesday when Tootsie came to replace her. She cleaned my apartment and stayed with me until Friday.
When Luke returned, I could hear him talking to Tootsie in the kitchen. I put on my robe and slippers and shuffled in. They both looked at me as though I were an apparition.
"See. I can take care of myself now. Y’all don't have to feel like I can't be left alone." I smiled, both my eyes were opened, although one was still pretty black and the other was turning yellow. Luke and Tootsie looked at each other with peculiar expressions. "Okay. What is it? Don't keep anything from me."
"Aren't you afraid the person who did this will come back?" Luke walked towards me and put his arm over my shoulder. He walked with me to the sofa and eased me down in a sitting position. "That's why we won't leave you alone."
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