Cesspool

by Phil M. Williams

  Richard spoke over pictures of James. “Unfortunately for the North Schuylkill Police Department, James Fisher was never found, and the pressures and allegations began to mount.” They cut to images of Facebook and YouTube. “The letters, presumably sent by James Fisher, provided web addresses where people could check the validity of the claims made by the author. One of the most damning pieces of evidence is an audiotape illegally obtained in Dot’s Diner, the very same restaurant where Brittany Summers worked.”

  Chief Strickland appeared. “She was in on the whole thing. He’s some kind a cult leader.”

  “But you couldn’t prove it,” Richard said.

  “No.”

  “Going back to the letter and the websites, what about the allegations that you and Harold were in fact the perpetrators of the serial rapes and murders?”

  The chief stood up, his fists clenched. “I told you that I wasn’t gonna talk about this slander.”

  “We have four women who claim that you and Harold raped them and threatened to kill them if they didn’t keep their mouths shut.”

  The chief yanked out his mic and stormed off the set.

  The camera cut to Richard Schlesinger. “Chief Wade Strickland declined to be interviewed further after we asked him questions about the women you are about to meet.”

  The screen showed a blacked-out silhouette of a woman. She spoke with an altered voice. She described how the chief and Harold raped her at the stone house, how they choked her almost to death, revived her, and did it again. Three other women had similar stories. Two of them were brave enough to show their faces. The women were middle-aged, their attacks happening twenty to twenty-five years ago. They were beyond the twelve-year statute of limitations for rape in Pennsylvania.

  Richard Schlesinger appeared again. “Here we are six months since the great escape and the cesspool murders, and James Fisher is still out there somewhere.” The show displayed pictures of James smiling with his students. “Was this mild-mannered teacher a cold-blooded killer or, as some claim, a Robin Hood taking out the trash?” The camera showed the chief covering his face as he entered his SUV. “Chief Wade Strickland retired amid controversy. He is facing multiple civil lawsuits. As of this taping, nine women have accused Wade Strickland of rape.” They cut to Kurt being escorted by men with DEA jackets. “Kurt Strickland was recently arrested by the DEA for distributing methamphetamines.” They showed Frank in an orange prison uniform. “Amid national uproar, Frank Wiggins has been granted a new trial by the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania.” The camera cut to pictures of Brittany at New Year’s, with a big smile. “Brittany Summers is attending Northern Virginia Community College and working as a waitress.” Richard Schlesinger appeared. “One of our producers was able to get a comment from the previously silent Ms. Summers. She asked if we would give James Fisher a message over the television. Her message was simply … thank you.”

  Chapter 24

  Math and History

  “Good morning, Mr. Hamilton,” she said in a singsong voice.

  “Hi, dear. How are you?” he asked, his leg elevated.

  She smiled. “I think I’m supposed to ask you that question. How did you sleep?”

  “Okay.”

  She glanced at the half-full container filled with urine hanging off the bed railing. “I see you were able to urinate. That’s good. Sometimes after anesthesia it can be hard.”

  She took the container to the bathroom, dumped the urine, and flushed the toilet. She returned and replaced the container on the bed railing.

  “How about some sunlight?” she asked. “It’s gonna be a beautiful day.”

  “That’d be great,” he replied.

  She opened the curtains, and sunlight streamed into the hospital room. The room overlooked a courtyard. Brittany watched as the early birds got their worms. She turned around and grinned at Mr. Hamilton.

  “They should be by with your breakfast soon. Do you need anything else?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Will you be back around?”

  “I will, in an hour or so. If you need me before that, just buzz me.”

  She pulled off her latex gloves at the door and dumped them in the red bin.

  Brittany spent the next four hours making her rounds. At noon she received a text message. She glanced at the clock on her phone. Shoot. She hustled to the nurse’s station. A middle-aged woman sat behind the counter.

  “I’m going to the cafeteria for lunch,” Brittany said to the woman.

  In the elevator, her thumbs moved rapidly. She typed Sorry, lost track of time. I’ll be there in five minutes.

  In the cafeteria, she grabbed a tray and ordered a chicken salad. She pushed her tray along the stainless steel counter, adding a bottled water along the way. Brittany paid at the register and entered the dining area with her head on a swivel. She saw him and made a beeline to his table. He sat alone, his sandwich almost gone. She sat down, with her bottom lip pressed out.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said.

  He smiled, his teeth white and straight, his skin dark and smooth. “It’s okay. I just miss you.”

  “Me too. We’ve both been working too much.”

  A lanyard hung around his neck with his image and his name, Dr. Rene Gautier.

  “One more week,” Rene said.

  “I know. I can’t wait.”

  “For which part?”

  “All of it.”

  He pursed his full lips. “It’s not like here. You’ll see suffering that …” He shook his head.

  “Rene, we’ve been through this.”

  “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “It’s not obligation. It’s love.”

  He smiled.

  * * *

  “Do you think he’ll come?” Brittany asked.

  They sat poolside, nursing iced teas. They were protected by beach cover-ups and the large umbrella that shielded their table.

  “If he saw the advertisement, he’ll be here,” Yolanda replied. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up though. Cesar’s guy only knew where he dropped him off. It’s been six years. He may not even be in Mexico at this point.”

  Brittany exhaled. “I know. I guess I just built up this fantasy all these years.” She frowned. “You know, I think I see him all the time. At the hospital, at the grocery store. I keep thinking one day he’ll just … be there. I don’t even know for sure if he’s still alive. The world hasn’t exactly been a stable place.”

  Brittany gazed at the breaking waves in the distance, her straw hat casting a dark shadow over her face. Rene and four Mexican men were bodysurfing. “They look happy,” Brittany said.

  Yolanda turned to the sea and laughed. “Look at Cesar. He’s just a big kid.”

  “I like seeing him with the boys, how they interact.” She took a deep breath.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded and turned to Yolanda, stone-faced. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

  Rene shouted and waved his arms at the women. Brittany shook her head. He held out his palms. Brittany pushed her arms forward as if she were pushing him away. Rene ran and dove into a breaking wave.

  “I’ve had enough sun,” Brittany said.

  “I think everyone’s seen enough of my beach body,” Yolanda replied.

  Brittany scowled. “Yolanda.”

  Rene jogged away from the surf, toward the pool. Water flicked from his body as he moved. He was tall and well-built.

  “Speaking of beach bodies,” Yolanda said.

  Rene approached with a wide grin. He bent over and kissed Brittany on the lips, dripping salt water on her cover-up. She smiled through the kiss. He pulled out a metal chair and sat down next to Brittany and across from Yolanda.

  “You two are missing all the fun,” he said.

  “I don’t wanna get burnt on the first day,” Brittany replied.

  Yolanda stood from the table. “I’m going to take a nap. I’ll see you two love
birds at the rehearsal dinner.”

  Rene stood from the table and smiled at Yolanda. He sat back down as she walked toward the hotel. Brittany watched Cesar with his sons, lost in her own thoughts.

  “Is something wrong?” Rene asked.

  Brittany shook her head.

  “You’re not getting cold feet are you?”

  “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”

  Rene smiled. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Her smile faded before it could bloom.

  “You thought he’d be waiting for you?”

  “I should have never gotten my hopes up.”

  He grasped her hand. “Hope is a good thing. Sometimes it’s the only thing.”

  She smiled for a moment.

  He squeezed her hand.

  “I’m still a little wiped from the flight,” she said. “Do you mind if I go back to the room and take a nap?”

  “Of course not. I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

  They stood from the table. He kissed her on the cheek and jogged toward the ocean. Brittany walked into the lobby, her flip-flops snapping. She stopped at a bank of shiny elevators and pressed the up arrow. She turned around. A family was checking in at the front desk. Their backs were turned. A shapely Mexican woman held the hand of a little boy. A man with salt-and-pepper hair paid in silver coins. James was right about that. The elevator door opened. Brittany turned around and stepped inside. She pressed ten on the panel and leaned against the back of the elevator. She glanced up to see the man pulling a large suitcase toward her. She reached out to hold the door, but she was too late. He wore sunglasses, but she knew.

  Her heart raced as she stopped the elevator on the second floor. She stepped out and watched the numbers above the elevator next to hers. It stopped on six. She took off her flip-flops and held on to her hat as she ran to the stairwell and hustled up four flights. She was out of breath as she spilled into the hallway and ran down the empty corridor. The hallway formed a big square with rooms on either side. She heard laughing around the corner. She heard the click of a door. Brittany turned the corner in anticipation. It was empty. She stopped, breathless. This is crazy. She turned around and started for the elevators. She stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Brittany,” he said.

  She turned toward the voice, his voice. He took off his sunglasses and stood with a broad grin, his face tanned. She ran toward him and threw her arms around him. They hugged for a long while.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled. “Why don’t you come in and meet Veronica and Rafael.”

  They walked into the room. Rafael was jumping up and down with a plastic bucket and a toy shovel. The boy was thin and tan with straight dark hair. “Vamonos, vamonos,” he said to Veronica.

  Veronica slipped on her flip-flops. “English,” she replied.

  The boy frowned. “Can we go now? Please.”

  Veronica turned to James and Brittany. “This must be Brittany.” She smiled with full lips and a round face. “I’m Veronica. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Veronica hugged Brittany before she could respond. After a moment, they separated.

  Brittany looked at Rafael, then to James. “This is your son?”

  James grinned. “He’s four.”

  “Do you want to make a sand castle with me?” Rafael asked Brittany.

  “Sure,” she replied.

  “Yes!” The boy raised his shovel straight over his head in celebration of his new friend.

  “Why don’t we let Daddy catch up with Brittany first,” Veronica said. “There’ll be plenty of time to play.”

  The boy scowled. “But you said we could go now.”

  Veronica smiled again at James and Brittany. “I’ll take him to the beach. He needs to burn up some of that energy. It was really nice to meet you.”

  “It was nice to meet you too, Veronica.”

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “I’ve been ready the whole time,” Rafael replied, his brow furrowed.

  The door clicked as the boy and his mother headed for the beach. James and Brittany walked out on the balcony. They leaned on the railing, watching the ocean. Cesar, his boys, and Rene were still bodysurfing.

  “Yolanda’s boys.” James chuckled. “They’re not boys anymore.”

  “That’s my fiancé out there.”

  “Dr. Rene Gautier. I looked him up.”

  “I love him dearly.”

  He turned to Brittany. “I’m happy for you. Rene, the wedding, your job, everything.” He smiled. “You did it.”

  “How do you know about my job?”

  “The wedding announcement said you guys met at Woodbridge General.”

  “I forgot that we put that on there. We posted wedding announcements on all these little local websites, hoping that we could attract you but not the authorities.”

  “I don’t think they care much about me anymore. Besides, James Fisher doesn’t exist. I’m Jaime Espinosa, born in Mexico. You can buy just about anything here, even a new identity.”

  “Can you come back to the States?”

  “With my son, it’s not a risk I can take.”

  She nodded.

  “So where to after the wedding? Do you have a honeymoon planned?”

  “We’ll be here for a week, and then we’ll go to a small village in southern Chad.”

  “Chad? Like the country in Africa?”

  “Rene grew up there. We’re heading up a relief mission for his village. They’ve had major problems with the water. It’s making people sick, and the women have to walk too far to get it.” She deadpanned, “Some of them have been attacked on the way.”

  He winced. “Do you have everything you need?”

  “I hope so. We’re bringing medical supplies, water filters, food. We’ll be building a clinic, and installing a well and rainwater-harvesting tanks. We have a team of people, mostly friends of Rene.”

  They watched Veronica and Rafael amble onto the beach hand in hand.

  “How did you two meet?” she asked.

  “She was my Spanish teacher.”

  Brittany grinned. “I guess that makes sense. She seems nice.”

  “I’m very lucky.”

  “How did you know what was gonna happen with the money?”

  He smirked. “Math and history.”

  “Did you see what happened with Apple, buying up all that silver? Silver prices doubled overnight.”

  He nodded. “They’re afraid they won’t have the silver they need for their electronics.”

  “I did what you said with the money. It’s worth more than I could ever spend. You should have it.”

  He shook his head. “You keep it. I can see you’re doing good things with it. Do you remember when I insisted on digging up something?”

  “You had a stash of gold and silver?”

  He laughed.

  She gazed out to the ocean. “I can’t believe we’re here … after everything.”

  He turned to her. “I’m proud of you.”

  She glanced at James for a moment, then her eyes settled on the beach, on Rene. “None of this would have ever happened …” She wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeve. “Without you I’d be …”

  James watched his wife and son. “So would I.”

  Dear Reader,

  I am thrilled that you took precious time out of your life to read my book. Thank you! I hope you found it entertaining, engaging, and thought-provoking. If so, please consider writing a positive review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Five-star reviews have a huge impact on future sales. The review doesn’t need to be long and detailed, if you’re more of a reader than a writer. As an author and a small businessman, competing against the big publishers, every reader, every review, and every referral is greatly appreciated.

  If you’re interested in receiving my new book releases for free, go to
the following link: www.PhilWBooks.com. You’re probably thinking, what’s the catch? There is no catch.

  If you want to contact me, don’t be bashful. I can be found at Phil@PhilWBooks.com. I do my best to respond to all e-mails.

  Sincerely,

  Phil M. Williams