by D. M. Pulley
The walls of the long wood-paneled hallway back toward the dining area were covered in photographs. Jasper paused and studied the pictures. Men with slick, combed hair and ladies with perfect curls all smiling out at him like they wanted to tell him a secret. Jasper frowned back. Some of the photos had swirly black ink scrawled across the corners. One of the men looked vaguely like someone he’d seen somewhere, but he couldn’t place it. A movie? He cataloged each face as he approached the dining room, until one of the pictures stopped him cold.
It was his mother.
He blinked his eyes and checked again. There she was with her dazzling smile, pinned hair, and the faint mole on her left cheek. The name Thea was scrawled under her chin. It was her, but it wasn’t. She was much younger, and her dress was cut low and tight across her chest. It reminded him of Not Lucy in her underwear. His father would have a fit.
He reached up his hand to lift the picture from the wall. It wouldn’t budge. He grabbed it with two hands and pulled with all his might. She shouldn’t be here with all these strangers dressed like that. The frame had been nailed down. He fell back against the opposite wall and stared up at her face. He hadn’t seen it in so long he couldn’t help but feel tears.
A light hand brushed his shoulder. “Thought you might’ve fallen in. You okay?”
Jasper nodded his head, but he wasn’t.
“Food’s here. C’mon, let’s eat.” She pulled him away from the photograph and back to the table.
The heavenly taste of burger and onions was almost enough to take his mind off her picture. She shouldn’t be here was all he could think every time he looked up at the hallway leading to the toilets. Why is she here?
“Lucy! How nice it is to see you!” The voice of a strange man startled Jasper out of his thoughts. He strode over to their booth.
Not Lucy dropped her sandwich. “Perry! What are you doing here?”
“I own this place. Why should I not come and visit my customers?” He was a rotund older man with bushy eyebrows, just like the old lady behind the register. Jasper had seen him somewhere before but couldn’t remember where. “Who is this young friend of yours?”
Jasper kept his head down.
“Oh, him?” Not Lucy waved her hand at Jasper like he was a stray dog. “I’m watching my neighbor’s kid for the afternoon. Earning a little spare change. You know how it is.”
He chuckled. “I certainly do. I’m hoping to see some of this spare change myself.”
“I know I’m behind, Perry. Just give me another week, and I’ll have the whole thing for you.”
Perry patted her shoulder. “I’m sure you will, Lucy. One way or another . . . You know, you could always come do some work for me. I got a lot of boys up north that would love to meet you.”
“Thanks, Perry, but I’ve got a job.” She smiled sweetly up at him, and for a split second, she looked more like a little girl than a woman. “I’ll get it to you. I promise.”
Perry tapped Jasper’s shoulder. “Make her take you to the playground. Make her earn that money your mama’s paying, alright?”
Jasper kept his head down and nodded. He didn’t want the man to notice him or the fact that they’d seen each other somewhere before. The way he made Not Lucy stiffen in her seat and smile told him he was not to be trusted.
The man put his hand on the back of Not Lucy’s neck and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. “You have until Thursday.”
With that, he left. When the door had swung shut, she grabbed her napkin and wiped the kiss from the side of her face.
A half an hour later, Jasper and Not Lucy were sitting in the bus station. Outside the sun was setting over Grand River. The ugly gray haze that hung over the skyline every day lit up in majestic shades of scarlet and orange, and the black soot running down the faces of the buildings faded away. For the briefest moment, the city was beautiful. Not Lucy seemed to notice it too, and neither of them talked for several minutes.
Finally, she asked, “Why’s John Russo lookin’ for you, honey?”
Jasper thought about it before answering. “I think he wants to take me away.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure.” The mess in the apartment, the blood on the wall, his mother’s picture, Mr. Hoyt, Big Bill, it was all a blur. A tear ran down his cheek. “I think something really bad happened to her.”
“To who?”
Jasper wiped away his tear and looked up at the strange woman whose name wasn’t Lucy, not sure how much he should trust her. She herself had told him not to talk to strangers. His mother had once told him the same thing. But Not Lucy wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore. She’d bought him dinner. She’d hidden him in her locker. She’d helped him figure out which bus went past Port Huron to Burtchville.
“My mom. She’s missing.”
“Well, she must be into something pretty big and bad if John’s lookin’ for her.” Not Lucy studied him with those hard but soft eyes. “He isn’t a regular cop.”
Jasper frowned at this.
“Who was she, honey?”
Jasper thought of the picture hanging in Stella’s diner on a wall full of strangers. “I’m not sure anymore.”
Not Lucy nodded and lit a cigarette.
“Who was that man? Back at the diner?”
“Him?” She blew out a cloud of smoke. “He thinks he’s some kind of gangster. He’s really just a two-bit hustler.”
“What’s a hustler?”
She cracked a half smile. “Someone who makes money the wrong way.”
“There’s a wrong way?”
She laughed. “There is if you ask the police. Know what I mean?”
Jasper really didn’t. He thought of the blood in his apartment and the burglars. Maybe the man with the bushy eyebrows was one of them. “What’s his name?”
“You don’t want to know him or his family, hon.” She shook her head and gazed out at the tall buildings. “Trust me.”
“But I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before. Who is he?”
“Perry Galatas.”
CHAPTER 24
Did anyone take advantage of you?
The bus was mostly empty on a Sunday night. Jasper sat in the back row with his suitcase balanced on his knees as the blue bus rumbled out of the station. Out his window he could see Not Lucy making her way up Woodward Avenue with her head down. She didn’t look back or wave; she just headed down the street to wherever it was she was going. Home maybe. Jasper pressed his forehead to the cool glass. Home.
The streetlights faded as the bus lumbered up the Dixie Highway and out of the city. The sky was going dark, with only a clouded moon hanging low in the sky. Up north in his uncle’s small cabin, Aunt Velma and Wayne would be cleaning up dishes from dinner. Ozzie and Harriet would be on the radio while they worked. Pretty soon, they’d shut the lights and go to sleep. Nobody stayed up late on the farm. The work started too early, and his uncle was always complaining about how keeping the lights on wasted electricity.
Clumps of tightly packed houses rushed by his window. Lamps were still lit in some of the windows, but many had gone dark. It would take over an hour to get to Burtchville. It would be too late to knock on Uncle Leo’s door. What am I gonna tell him? he wondered and leaned his head on the back of the seat in front of his. The bus ticket had cost him seventy-five cents. He had a quarter in his pocket, but it wouldn’t be enough to get anywhere else for the night. He had no choice.
The bus plunged farther into the dark, leaving the dimly lit suburbs behind. His father would be furious he’d left the city. Of course, he’d be furious he’d run away from a policeman and talked to a half-naked woman too. His father would eventually come looking for him at the farm, and he’d have to tell him something. He’d have to tell his uncle something as well. No matter how he sliced it, he was going to have to lie to somebody.
Jasper chewed his fingernails down to the quick, wondering what to say. Kidnapped. He could say he’d been kidnapped and thrown i
n the back of a car, and when the villains weren’t looking, he’d made a daring escape. He’d hidden in an alley until a bus came along, and he’d flagged it down. Or he’d hidden in a ditch until sunrise and found his way back home to the farm on foot. Jasper stared out into the dark fields rushing past his window. It was the best story he could think up. He could even say something about the mess and the blood in the apartment he found right before the kidnappers pounced. It was always good to mix some truth into a lie to make it more believable.
The bus turned onto Gratiot Avenue in Port Huron. The street lamps of the town center flooded into the bus, lighting up the hats of the three men slouched in the seats in front. A hairy arm reached up and pulled the bell, and the bus’s brakes let out an earsplitting squeal as they rolled to a stop at the town square. All three of the other passengers stood and stretched, then lumbered out. A farmer in his straw hat, a businessman in his fedora, and a younger man in his flat cap all climbed down the steps, one by one.
The bus driver stood up and lit a cigarette. “Anybody left back there?” he barked.
Jasper raised his hand. “I’m here.”
“Oh. Right,” he mumbled. “Where ya headed?”
“Burtchville, sir!”
“Never heard of it. Where the hell’s that?”
“Um . . . it’s not far. Ever hear of the Tally Ho tavern?” Jasper peeked his head out into the aisle. He couldn’t see if the name of the tavern registered on the man’s face, but he seemed like the sort that would drink.
“Nope.”
“Just head north a few more miles. I think you’ll find it.”
“Mmm-hmm,” the driver grumbled with the cigarette hanging from his mouth and slid his big belly back behind the steering wheel.
The bus started moving again. The station clerk had told him the 91 bus was going to Croswell and would pass right through Burtchville, but it took a moment for him to find the tiny village on the map. The lights of Port Huron were disappearing behind the bus as it rumbled up the road. Jasper watched them out the back window. A red exit sign hung over the glass.
The highway was perfectly dark on all sides except for the yellow headlights at the front of the bus. The moon drifted under another cloud out the back window as Jasper debated whether he would wake up his uncle or sleep in the barn that night. The barn sounded more appealing.
The squeal of the brakes interrupted his thoughts. The driver cut the headlights and shut down the engine. Outside, there wasn’t anything but dark fields.
Jasper stuck his head out into the aisle. “Excuse me, sir? This isn’t Burtchville.”
“Need to take a pit stop,” the driver said with a low chuckle and stood up from his seat. But instead of opening the front door to take a leak, he started heading down the aisle toward Jasper. “Been wonderin’ why the hell I’m goin’ all these extra miles for some kid.”
He said it like he was telling a private joke to someone else on the bus, but there was no one there. Jasper wanted to shrink back into his seat, but his gut told him to stand up. “I—I thought this bus went all the way to Croswell.”
“Nobody goes to that shit-hole town. Not on my Sunday route.” The man was getting closer. He unhooked one strap of his overalls. “Haven’t been there in months and can’t say a single soul complained.”
Jasper backed away from him until the emergency exit handle was pressed into his back. He glanced out the side window again. He was miles from anywhere. “I can pay extra,” he blurted, reaching into his pocket. “Here, I’ve got another quarter. Take it. I just want to get home, mister.”
Jasper held out his hand to show the man the shiny coin. The driver grabbed him by the wrist with big, meaty fingers. “Nah. I’ve got somethin’ better in mind, boy.”
The quarter bounced to the floor.
Jasper’s mouth fell open as he tried to pull himself free, but the man’s hand was a vise.
“Let me go!” he shrieked.
“Don’t make it harder on yourself, kid. Just relax.” The man grabbed Jasper’s other hand and forced it into his drooping overalls.
Jasper’s eyes bulged from his head. He couldn’t even put thoughts to the shock and horror. The man was clearly insane, and inside his pants was nothing short of a monster. Hard, hot skin and hair assaulted Jasper’s palm as the man moved his hand up and down, forcing him to pet some hideous creature. The man was breathing hard and nodding his approval. Jasper wrenched his arms with all his strength to absolutely no effect. The man just shoved his hand down farther, and Jasper could feel more hair and something soft dangling between his fat thighs.
A word finally came to Jasper’s stunned-dumb mind. Balls. That one word snapped Jasper out of his stupor. The man was rubbing his hand on his balls.
In a fury, his hand grabbed the nuts just like he’d seen his uncle do right before he castrated poor Roy. The driver loosened his hold on the boy in surprise.
You gotta grab and cut quick, or the boar will eat you alive, Uncle Leo had told him.
There was no knife, so Jasper squeezed and twisted the man’s testicles as hard as he could, hoping to tear them off instead. The man let out a deafening scream and released his grip on Jasper’s wrists for a precious second.
He ripped his arms free and gave the bus driver a sound kick in the crotch. The fat man toppled back on his ass, doubled over, and bleated just like Uncle Leo’s pig.
Once you’re done, you better clear out of there, ’cause he’ll be madder than a nest of hornets.
Jasper spun and cranked the emergency door handle with all his might. The latch came undone with a loud clank, but the door didn’t budge. “C’mon! Come on, you son of a bitch!” he screamed and kicked the door open.
Behind him, he could hear the driver groaning and trying to pull himself up, but he didn’t look back. Jasper hit the road at a blind run and tumbled down into the side ditch with a small splash. Not daring to stop, he scrambled along the bottom of the trench, staying hidden in its shadow.
“Get back here, you filthy little fucker!” the man shouted from the bus’s back exit. “When I find you, I’m gonna tear you in two! Ya hear me? I’ll make you wish you was never born!”
Heavy boots thundered down the road. Jasper kept crawling as fast as his hands and knees could carry him along the floor of the muddy ditch. The moon had gone behind a cloud, and the only lights were the stars. Up ahead, Jasper could just barely make out the shadow of dirt piled into the ditch for a field access path and a big cement pipe going through it. He squeezed himself inside the culvert and out of sight.
The bus driver’s footsteps grew quieter as he headed the other way, bellowing more threats of what he planned to do to him. Jasper balled up inside the concrete pipe. Muddy water crept up his back. He’d never been more confused and terrified in his life. All he knew was that he wanted to chop off his hand. He scraped the palm of it against the concrete wall.
The driver was losing patience out on the road and tried a different tack. “You’re going to die out here, ya know. There’s nobody around for miles. Coyotes gonna catch ya and eat ya for supper. You come with me, I’ll make sure you get home safe and sound . . .”
Jasper would rather be eaten by coyotes. He stayed silent in his hiding place under the access track until the bus driver finally gave up. “Fine! Burn in hell, you little shit!”
The loud, wet thump of something being thrown into a ditch was followed by the slam of a door. A moment later, the engine of the bus cranked up and rumbled away. It was only when the sound had faded completely that Jasper’s tensed muscles began to tremble. He turned to the side and threw up his dinner.
CHAPTER 25
We’re not here to pass judgment. We’re here for the truth.
Jasper stayed balled up in the drainpipe all night. It was out of the wind, but more importantly, he was too terrified to move. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep, a sort of waking nightmare filled with hairy bus drivers and the sound of poor Roy squealing.
A tightness in his throat warned him he’d gotten too cold lying there in the dark puddle. He could hear his uncle’s voice in the back of his ears. The surest way to freeze to death when you’re out huntin’ is to let yourself get wet.
Heeding this warning, Jasper hurried to his suitcase and pulled it out of the muck. By the thinnest slice of luck, it hadn’t popped open. Clutching it in his freezing hand, he scrambled up the far side of the ditch away from the road. A grove of trees loomed a hundred yards ahead. Behind it sat the shadow of a farmhouse. He’d have to be quick. The farmer would be up any minute to tend to the livestock.
He darted into the cover of the trees and stripped off his wet, muddy clothes. Even his underpants and socks were damp. Naked and shivering, he relieved his bladder against one of the thick oaks, then opened his bag. Two sets of clothes. That’s all he had, but they were dry. He pulled on his shirt and pants and instantly felt warmer but not quite warm enough. He considered his other set of clothes in the suitcase and the pile of muddy garments on the ground. The wet clothes would ruin the rest along with his mother’s diary. He grabbed the book up from the bottom of the bag and checked to see that the pages were all still there.
One of the farmhouse windows lit up through the dark trees.
Jasper pulled the second pair of clothes on top of the first and threw his filthy, wet rags into the suitcase. The door to the farmhouse fifty yards away swung open with a loud creak as he stuffed his mother’s book into the waist of his pants. Jasper ducked behind a tree.