I left him there and stood fast. I caught Tina from the corner of my eye. Her T-shirt was torn up the middle, her bra around her neck. Her breasts were exposed. I didn’t want to see them but there was nothing I could do about that. Her jeans were unbuttoned and had been pulled almost past her hips, her panties with them.
The other two boys still had her. They were aware of me but hadn’t had time to drop her yet. The second boy had one hand over her mouth and the other hand around her waist. The third had his hands hooked under her knees. I saw that Tina’s eyes were closed tight, her face contorted with anger and concentration. She was still bucking with all she had.
I moved without hesitation to the boy nearest to me, the one with her legs in his arms. I rushed him, crouching like a peek-a-boo boxer, like Frazier or Tyson, and spiraled with my whole body and being and drove a fast open-handed uppercut between his muscular legs. It landed with a loud slap. He dropped Tina’s legs, drawing his arms fast to his crotch as if to catch something about to fall. He fell to a heap on the ground and immediately began to heave his dinner.
The third boy had dropped Tina by then and was rushing toward me, moving like a linesman after the quarterback. Tina lay flat out on the ground, her eyes wide open. She had no clue what was happening. The third boy came in for a low tackle. I let him, and the first blow I landed was a sharp knee thrust to his face. It slowed him a little. A second blow stunned him. I was able then to grab hold of his head with both hands. I hugged it close to me like it was a basketball I didn’t want to lose and wailed at it again with my knee. It took two more blows before the third boy caved and lost momentum and stumbled facedown to the ground.
My mind was racing now. I know I should have grabbed Tina and gotten out of there. I had done what the law allowed and nothing more. This was important to me. But something kept me there. It came to me in this chaos that I had a reason to put a scare into that boy, to say something to him, let him know I was on to him and I wasn’t afraid of him. I didn’t want to let him go and then have it come back and cause trouble for me or anyone else. The third boy rolled out onto his back. I looked down at him. Through the dark I was able to recognize him. I had seen his photograph in the papers, in the local sports pages, there and only there. It appeared nowhere else, not the front page, not in the police blotter, not anywhere. I knew his name. I knew exactly who he was.
Tina wasn’t the first girl from the high school to be attacked. Since last November three rapes had been reported by girls who claimed not to know their attackers. The rumor around town was that the investigating cops weren’t doing their job. A lot of people had a pretty good idea why nothing was being done.
The first boy, the one whose rib I had cracked, got to his feet fast then and headed toward the park exit. He didn’t look back, just bolted clumsily, his arm clutched at his side. The second boy, the one I had clipped in the groin, was on his hands and knees, wiping the vomit from his chin. He looked at me but I wasn’t certain he could see much of anything. His eyes were watery. They looked for me in the dark but didn’t seem to find me.
“Get out of here,” I said to him.
He looked at the third boy, then back up at me. When he didn’t move I took a single step toward him. It was just a bluff, but it did the job. He scrambled to his feet and hobbled away as fast as he could.
I approached the third boy and stood over him. He was out of breath. He looked up at me, his eyes blinking. Since he was a football player I knew he was used to pain, to playing hurt. He was stunned by the shots I had landed but he wasn’t broken. I sensed no fear from him at all. He was simply on his back, resting as if between plays.
“Fun time’s over,” I said to him. “Do you understand me?”
He said nothing, just stared up at me. His jaw was set tight, hatefully.
“I know who you are,” I said. “You and your friends, you’re out of business. Understand me?”
Suddenly he was smiling. “My father’s the chief of police,” he said.
“I know who your old man is. I don’t give a fuck. You’re out of business. That’s all there is to it. I’m stopping you right now.”
He laughed and shook his head from side to side. “You can’t stop me. I do what I want.”
“You don’t scare me, Tommy.”
“You can’t touch me, asshole”
“You’re the one flat out on his back, Tommy. I’m still standing.”
“You won’t be for long. Not when my father is done with you.”
I chose to ignore that and just get to the point. “You come near Tina again and you’d better hope I get to you before her old man does.”
I turned to get Tina. All the time I had to spare had been burned up, I knew this. We needed to go, but I stopped dead in my tracks when Tommy spoke again.
“Your friend’s a skank anyway. There are a lot of other sweet little pieces in town. Maybe we won’t be so nice to the next one. And she’ll have you to thank for that. Just a little something for you to think of while you’re sitting on your ass in my father’s jail.”
I said over my shoulder, “You want to be careful what you say here, Tommy.”
“She wanted it. They all do. She came with us, she knew what was up. If they want in, they have to pass initiation. This goes on all the time, every weekend, and there isn’t a fucking thing you can do about it.”
I turned and looked down at him. I said nothing.
“Your little friend is the biggest tease in school. An ugly thing like her shouldn’t play so hard to get. What does she think she is? She can cry rape all she wants, but to be part of the gang, you’ve got to bang. She knew that when she left the party with us—”
Suddenly Tina lunged forward. I had lost track of her, of where she was, but she came out from behind me, from my left, and bolted toward the fallen boy. She had put her bra back in place and had refastened her jeans and was holding her torn shirt up to her chest. She was anything but anywhere near put back together, though.
“You’re a liar,” she shrieked. “You’re a lying pig.” She charged Tommy and kicked at his head. It was a powerful and well-controlled kick. Her father had obviously taught her a thing or two about fighting. She was on him before I could move. The tip of her sneaker struck him, and the blow clearly jolted Tommy. She went to throw another kick but the jolt hadn’t lasted. Tommy recovered his senses fast and grabbed at her foot and sprang up into a seated position. She fell into him and he pulled her down on top himself. He grabbed her close to him and rolled fast, toppling her and landing on top of her.
Though trapped below his weight Tina wasn’t done. She reached up and scratched at his face. She wriggled, trying to get out from under him, screaming at him. I raced toward them and was on him before he could do anything much in the way of retaliation.
I grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him off Tina. I yanked him with everything I had and spun around and flung him to the ground. He landed on his back. The instant he was down I mounted him.
Tommy and I were face to face. His breath smelled of alcohol. He struggled against me and I could feel his tremendous strength, I could feel my control over him weakening. He was wild with rage, twisting and squirming below me like a mad dog. I knew I couldn’t hold him for long. He was just too strong. It was only a matter of time before he broke free of me, and once he did I’d have a nasty fight on my hands. And there just wasn’t time for that now. I couldn’t get into a wrestling match. I needed to get Tina and get out of here.
I gave up trying to restrain Tommy and slammed the side of my head into his face. He grunted once. But this did nothing to sap his strength. He was on the verge of bucking me. He arched his back, lifting his hips high off the ground, and me with them. My balance was shot. I was too high in the saddle now. He rolled to his left and I fell to the ground. I was on my back now and he was above me.
My legs, though, were around his waist, my knees against his chest. I felt his weight press upon me for a moment and then give
. Instead of trying to pin me, Tommy did what a football player would do, he went to stand up.
He was smiling. The reversal had given him confidence. There was hate in his smile. I let him plant his feet solidly on the ground, then reached down and hooked his ankles with my hands and pulled them toward me as I pushed forward with my knees. I moved explosively. Tommy went crashing down to his back again.
I sat up fast. Tommy’s feet were right there for me. I leaned back so he couldn’t kick my face and slapped an ankle lock on his right foot. He was clueless to what I was after. He lifted his head and looked down at me but the lock was on. He wasn’t going anywhere now. I trapped his right leg between mine. Our eyes meet. The smile was gone and there was a puzzled, almost concerned look on his face now.
I could have kicked him in his groin, done something to stun him, then grabbed Tina and run out of there. I could have done a lot of things. But I chose to do something else instead. The Chief had gone this far to protect his son. Was there any reason to believe that he wouldn’t continue to protect him? I was probably jail-bound as it was. I knew this. The only thing I could think of was that the last thing I wanted was Tommy Miller running free while I was locked away in his daddy’s jail.
I would never get another chance like this again. I had it now and had to take it. It was the only order I could find in this chaos swirling around us.
“What the fuck?” Tommy said.
I looked him in the eye once more, then leaned back suddenly, almost laying myself flat on the ground. I moved like a shot, the lock secure around Tommy’s ankle. He cried out as I turned the hold ninety degrees and the ligaments in his ankle joint tore from the bone. Without hesitating, I turned at the waist with a jerk—one sudden, violent thrust. I heard from Tommy’s knee a dull snap. It was a sickening sound. I let go of Tommy and got up fast. He was screaming now, a terrible, high-pitched squeal. It was time to go.
I rushed over to Tina and took her by the shoulders. My touch startled her. Her head lifted quickly, her arms flying up to cover her torn T-shirt. I helped her up. Her body was shaking wildly.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “You’re okay now.”
“Who are you?” she demanded. There was a degree of pleading in her voice. She was scared and confused, on the verge of tears.
“It’s okay. I’m a friend of your father’s. You’re okay. C’mon, we’ve got to get out of here.” I glanced at her torn shirt. “Do you have a jacket somewhere around here?”
“No.”
I was wearing an unbuttoned denim shirt over a dark T-shirt. I took the denim shirt off and swung it around her shoulders quickly. She held it tight around herself, covering herself up. I smelled her sweat and a sweet, citrus perfume.
“Did you have a purse with you, did you drop anything?”
“No.”
“You’re sure.”
She nodded her head quickly. Her features were a blur in the dark. Her mouth was hanging open slightly, almost dumbly. “Yes.”
“We can’t leave behind anything they could use to identify us.”
“I didn’t have anything.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yes.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Can you walk?” She was frozen, her muscles locked tight. She held her shoulders high and was all but rooted to the ground.
“I think so.”
“All right, let’s get out of here.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Not now. Suck it up.”
Voices were coming from the lot behind the police station. I heard keys jingle and hurried footsteps.
I put my hand over Tina’s mouth. Her eyes went wide. I held my index finger up to my own lips, locked eyes with her to make certain she understood, then took her by the hand and led her along the path that wound around the library to Job’s Lane.
We stopped by the front of the building, out of sight, and knelt down. I had her slip her arms into the sleeves of the shirt and button it up. I checked up and down the street, and then we rose and walked as casually as we could up Job’s Lane. We rounded the corner onto Main Street and walked to my car. I had my arms on her shoulders and looked around as we went. I saw nobody.
We hurried into my car and I cranked the ignition till the motor caught. Then we backed from the curb onto Main Street. I shifted into gear and eased up to the traffic light at the corner of Main and Job’s Lane.
As we waited for the light to turn green, I looked back in my rear view mirror toward the Village Hall. I searched for signs of commotion. But there were none. I glanced to my right, down Job’s Lane. No motion there, nothing to be seen but a few cars parked down the block, outside the Driver’s Seat.
The light changed and I eased down the accelerator and made the left-hand turn onto Meeting House Lane. We rode the side streets back to the Hansom House. It was less than a mile, and I obeyed every traffic law there was along the way.
Tina sat still in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. She said nothing. Her fingers were long and bony, and her hands shook as if from a killing cold.
She sat at my kitchen table with a pint glass of cold green tea in her still-shaking hands. She had yet to take a sip from it. I doubted she even knew she was holding it. I was behind her, leaning against my kitchen doorway with my arms folded across my chest. I watched her. I knew a person in shock when I saw one. I thought of the night Augie and I were attacked, remembered how I just stood there with the Maglite in my hand, unable to let go of it, unable to do anything except stare at Augie in the darkness.
Maybe five minutes passed before Tina’s head moved suddenly, like someone waking up from a bad dream. She looked around the kitchen, startled. Finally she turned and spotted me behind her.
“You’re okay,” I told her. She was looking over her shoulder at me. Her eyes were gray and a little more focused now. Her mouth was still hanging open slightly, but there was a look of alarm on her face now, so she was no longer dumbstruck, finally aware—or becoming aware—of her surroundings.
I moved from the doorway and sat across the small table from her. She turned her head and kept her eyes on me the whole way.
“You’re okay,” I said again.
She stared at me, said finally, “You’re name’s Mac, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
She took two breaths before answering. “I came home from school a few months ago and you were passed out on our couch.”
I had no memory of that. “Oh,” I said.
“My father told me you were his friend.”
“I am.” I kept my voice low, just above a whisper. She matched my tone.
“Is he here?”
“No.”
“He said he was going to meet you tonight.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” I said. I was trying to convince myself of this as much as trying to assure her.
“I need to see him.”
“I know. You’re okay for now, though. All right? Just try to focus on that. I’ll stay with you till he shows up. Drink your tea. It’s good for you. It’ll help you calm down.”
She looked at the glass in her hand like she’d only then become aware of it. She stared at it for a moment, then brought it to her lips and took a sip. Her hands were still shaking and she couldn’t keep an even flow to her mouth. She swallowed. Wincing, she put the glass down on the table.
“It’s an acquired taste,” I said. Tears were welling up in her eyes now, waiting to fall. The shock was passing, her emotions beginning to free up.
Her eyes pinched then, cutting loose two large tears that bounded down her young face. She stiffened, her eyes locked on me, as she held back the rest. She muttered as calmly as she could, “I want my father.” Her voice quivered, and for a moment she flashed with anger— at the tears, at the break in her voice, at what she had just uttered.
She was her father’s daughter, all right, I tho
ught.
“He’ll be here soon,” I repeated. I didn’t know what else to say.
She sniffled and wiped her wet face with the back of her hand. “I’m afraid.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“What if they follow us here?”
“They’re not going to be following anyone for a while.”
“How can you be sure?”
“You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to be afraid of them anymore. I promise.”
More tears sprang free, rolling down her face. She immediately stiffened, as if that would keep others from following, but it was no good. There was no holding back now. Her shoulders hunched suddenly and finally she broke down and wept.
I moved her to my couch, sat her down and put her under my wool blanket. She curled upon herself like a child. I lit a candle to give her something to focus on. I didn’t know what else to do. She was fifteen—just a child. A traumatized child, at that. I could treat wounds—my own wounds, another’s wounds. But this was beyond my experience. This was alien to me.
I did the only thing I could think to do. I pulled up my chair and sat across from her, watching over and wondering where the hell Augie was.
Around midnight Tina fell asleep, her skinny legs occasionally twitching violently, as if she were still trying to buck herself free of her three attackers. I held perfectly still in my chair, listening hard for the sound of footsteps coming down the long hallway outside my door.
I had given up on Augie showing. I was expecting the police now. Despite my precautions before and after the attack, Tommy Miller had seen my face. It was only a matter of time before Elm Street filled with patrol cars. I was actually surprised that no one was here yet.
I lost track of time, but at some point the candle burned out and I was left in the dark. Sometime after that I fell asleep sitting up in my chair. I don’t know for how long I was out, but eventually I was awakened by a sound.
The Poisoned Rose Page 8