Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 01 - Blood on White Wicker

by Peggy Holloway

  “Whereas, you think you’re this innocent little girl and not the whore that you are. If you would just accept that, we could enjoy each other. I gave Mrs. Lessiter a triple dose of her sleeping meds tonight so she’ll sleep like the dead.

  “I’m going to take off your pajamas now Vicky, I really want you to pretend to fight me. I’m sure you’ve had experience with rough sex, haven’t you?”

  As soon as he said that, I knew what I had to do. So when he released me and started unbuttoning my pajama top, I just lay there staring him in the eye.

  “Fight me, damn it, if I wanted to fuck a corpse, I’d be in there fucking my wife.”

  When I didn’t move, but defiantly stared at him, he ripped open my pajama top. The buttons went flying.

  He suddenly leaned back on his heels and laughed. “You wear a bra to bed? Maybe you are more naïve than I figured and this will be better than I thought.”

  He pulled me up against his chest and undid my bra. He then threw me back down and grabbed the front of my bra and threw it on the floor. His eyes were glassy and he was leering.

  “I promise you, Vicky, you will fight me.”

  He put his head down and bit my nipple. No one had ever done that to me. Even when my foster dad raped me, he just climbed on top and it was over in minutes.

  I knew now that this could last all night unless I did fight him. I started screaming and pulling his hair trying to get his teeth out of my nipple.

  He raised his head and panted, “Oh yes, Oh God yes, Just like that, Vicky. You keep being good like this and I’ll be ready in no time. I’m already getting a rise down there.”

  He basically chewed his way down my body. When he pulled my legs apart, I knew I had to somehow stop him. He suddenly thrust his finger inside me and raised his head up to look at me.

  “You can continue to fight, but I like to tell them at this point what’s coming next. You’re going to love it. I’m going to finger fuck you and lick you at the same time, because I love licking. My wife never would let me. When you get ready, I should be ready by then.”

  I screamed at him, “I’ll never be ready, you stupid old sick pervert.” He laughed like a little boy who had been given the present he had always wanted.

  “My God, Vicky, I do believe you’re the best I’ve ever had.” He started unbuttoning his pants. “Look, would you just look at this. It’s bigger than it’s been in years. I had forgotten how big it could get. I think it’s because I haven’t had a full erection in years, damn my old age.”

  He was looking at himself like he had never seen himself before. He sat there looking at himself and rubbing his penis like he had forgotten I was there. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. I took this opportunity to look around for something to defend myself with.

  There was a music box on my night stand that Mrs. Lessiter had given me as a moving in gift. It wasn’t very heavy so I would have to swing very hard.

  As I picked it up he looked up at me with awe, “You want to feel it, Vicky? It feels wonderful.”

  I swung with every ounce of strength I had and it hit him on the left temple. He didn’t make a sound, but fell off the bed and landed on the side of his face, which left his head at a funny angle.

  I didn’t stop to see if he was dead or alive. I got my suitcase from under the bed (they had bought this for me when I first moved in, for vacations, they said) and packed everything I had in it.

  CHAPTER 9

  Once again, I was on the run. Now I was smarter. I wouldn’t break any laws or draw attention to myself in any way. I wandered around for some time and ended up in Fat City. This was an area of Metairie that was about six square blocks of nightclubs. It was a little classier than the clubs on Bourbon Street, and was in Jefferson Parrish. They have Parishes in Louisiana instead of counties.

  Unlike New Orleans Parrish, it was illegal to go topless in the clubs in Jefferson Parrish. I walked into a place called Kit Katz. There was a man behind the bar that looked so much like Dave that, at first, I thought it was Dave and walked over to him with a big smile on my face. I sat down at the bar in front of him and continued to watch him.

  “Well, hello there, doll,” he said and he sounded like Dave. I figured he must be a local boy too. “Please tell me you’re here for the job.”

  “I do need a job,” I said, “but I don’t know anything about mixing drinks.”

  “Well, you’re in luck then, because this here’s a dancing job.”

  “But I don’t know anything about dancing on a stage either.”

  “Nothing to it, just get up there and shake your ass.”

  I then noticed a girl on stage. She was barely moving and looked bored.

  He saw me looking and said, “Oh, that there’s Juliette, not her real name, of course. I think she’s a little stoned. She usually moves better than that.”

  I felt encouraged by this fake name part. “So what do you think? This look like something you would want to do? The job pays three hundred a week plus tips. Plus you get an extra twenty at the end of the week if you show up every night.

  “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you get up there on the stage and let me see what you can do. Hey, Rosa! Rosa, you back there?” He called over his shoulder.

  A pretty girl with light brown hair with one long thick braid down her back came from a dark hallway. She was wearing a two-piece costume that wasn’t much skimpier than a two-piece bathing suit. It was made of dark blue satin with crystal beads all over it. She smiled at me.

  The man said, “I’m Frank and this here’s Rosa. She’s going to take you in the back and see if she can find you a costume, right, Rosa? I think the one Caroline left here when she quit will fit. You can tell me your name when you get back out.”

  “Follow me,” she said as she headed down the hallway. “Do you have any high heels?”

  I said that I did, and we entered a small dressing room. I dropped my suitcase, and she handed me a pink costume similar to hers, but this one had rhinestones. I put my suitcase on the floor and got out a pair of silver high-heeled sandals.

  “Wow, those are beautiful,” she said.

  She left and I changed.

  When she came back in, she said, “Hey, that looks better on you than it did on Caroline. So what name did you pick?”

  I thought for a minute and said, “I think I’ll be Brandy.”

  She laughed, “I like it,” she said. “By the way, you can keep the costume. I don’t think Caroline will be back. Her and Frank had a terrible fight. Do you have a place to stay? If not, you can stay with me for now. Then tomorrow I’ll take you down to a place where you can get some costumes made.”

  By now, I was feeling overwhelmed, “Uh, I really appreciate this so much. I just don’t know how to thank you. And I don’t have a place to live yet. I just got into town,” I lied.

  “Well, I’m glad to help out, but right now Frank wants you up on the stage.”

  When I got back out to the bar, Frank whistled, and I could feel myself blushing.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  Rosa laughed and said, “Frank, I’d like to introduce to you, Brandy.”

  “If you’re going to call yourself Brandy, you need strawberry blonde hair. But it doesn’t matter. I like the name.” He handed me two quarters. “The girl on stage now is Lori. She’s on her second number. When she starts on her third, take these quarters and put them in the jukebox over there and pick out two numbers and get up there on the stage and dance.”

  I was really nervous, but once I got up on the stage and started dancing, I had a good time. I smiled at the men in the audience and all of a sudden, there were airplanes made out of money sailing onto the stage. There were fives, tens and a few twenties. When I finished my last dance, the crowd clapped as I gathered up my money.

  I walked over to Frank, and he kissed my cheek, “That was real nice, doll. You want to start tonight or tomorrow night?”

  I was so excited.
This job was going to be fun. “I’ll start tonight.”

  “Good. Now, when you’re on stage, you’ll be doing three numbers. In between being on stage, you’ll be serving drinks. Of course, you can’t serve drinks yet, but tomorrow, you need to go down and apply for an AB card. That’s an alcohol and beverage card. It’s a license. They’ll take your fingerprints, and you’ll have to show some ID showing you’re eighteen. But if you don’t have a record, you should be okay.”

  I felt so disappointed. I knew there was no way in hell to get that AB card. I don’t know how I thought I was going to get a job. I decided to finish out the job for tonight and then try to figure out what to do next. Maybe Rosa could help me.

  “Rosa, I appreciate you letting me spend the night tonight, but I’m not going to be able to keep this job,” I said as we got into her Volkswagen Rabbit at 4 a.m.

  She looked over at me and shrugged her shoulders. “What are you talking about? You were terrific. Frank thought you were adorable. He told me so. What’s the problem?”

  I glanced out the window and noticed we were going toward the street where the apartment complex was where I had slept in the parking lot in the stolen car. Then we actually did turn down Houma. I decided to tell her the truth.

  “The cops can’t find me right now. I have a record. And I’m only sixteen.”

  She blew out a long breath, reached around for the long braid and pulled it over her shoulder and started flipping with her finger. I learned later on that that was what she did when she was thinking.

  “Oh, boy, you really are sixteen. I just thought you looked young for your age. Let’s think about this for a minute. Frank has taken on some girls who just danced and didn’t serve liquor. You wouldn’t make as much, but you wouldn’t have to worry about getting an AB card. The other part…there’s no getting around it. We’re going to have to get you some false ID.”

  My mouth fell open. I had seen stuff like this in movies, but I had never really met anyone who could do it. Well, maybe Dave could have.

  “You know how to do that?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t, but I know someone who can. We’re going to be going to the French Quarter today after we sleep some. While we’re down there, I’ll see this person. You’ll have to go have a cup of coffee or something, because he doesn’t know you, and he won’t trust you.

  “The only problem that I can see is that you’ll need a lot of money. He’s good, but he charges through the nose. And I speak from experience. You have any money besides what you made in tips last night? How much did you make anyway?”

  I began pulling wadded-up bills from my jeans pocket. I counted them as I straightened them out.

  “There’s three hundred and seventeen here,” I said.

  “Whoa, that’s more than I ever made in one night. I take it back. Maybe you will make as much not selling drinks,” she said as she pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex.

  The buildings had two floors and were built around a beautiful courtyard with lush vegetation and a pool in the middle. The buildings were pink, trimmed in white.

  When she saw me looking at the pool, she said, “Oh, that reminds me. I told Frank that you were going to be staying with me, and he told me to see that you worked on your tan. So we’ll have to try to work in some pool time today. We’re going to have a very busy day.”

  Her apartment was a cute little townhouse with a bedroom and bath upstairs and a kitchen, living room, and half-bath downstairs. She had fixed it up in earth tones with vases of dried weeds spread everywhere. She had a big king-sized bed, and I slept with her, but still felt like I was sleeping alone. We didn’t talk much after we climbed in the bed around five in the morning. We slept until two in the afternoon. I slept like a log and didn’t have the dream.

  After we got ready to go, Rosa asked me if I would like to get coffee and beignets in the French Market while we were down there. I agreed since that was one of my favorite things to eat, and I had missed having the chicory coffee.

  As we were driving towards the French Market, Rosa said, “You know, Brandy, you ought to consider going strawberry blonde. I think you would look good. Not that you don’t look good now. You’re absolutely gorgeous. So what do you think? If we did it today, we could have the picture for your driver’s license made afterward. This is an idea. Since you’ll have to wait for me to see the man about getting you a fake ID, you could use that time to get your hair done. What do you think?”

  I thought this was a great idea and told her so.

  On Charters Street, Rosa pulled up in front of and old wooden house and an old gray-haired man opened the door. He was wearing a silk robe with bright red poppies on it and flip flops. There were bolts of beautiful material piled high on tables everywhere I looked. He took my measurements, and I picked out six different materials with decorations to go with them. He said he could have them ready in a few days and would call Rosa when they were ready. I gave him three hundred dollars, and we thanked him and left.

  Next, Rosa took me to a fancy hair salon named Le Mon’s and left me there. Besides having them dye my hair strawberry blonde, I decided to also get it cut short. I found out that Rosa knew a lot of people and everyone liked her, because even though I didn’t have an appointment, Le Mon himself did my hair after seeing me with Rosa. He did a good job, and I looked so different I thought I could fool anyone. I gave Le Mon two hundred dollars, but it was worth it.

  When Rosa drove up, I was waiting outside. When I got in the car, she gave a whistle.

  “Amazing, I almost didn’t recognize you. Now we’ve got to go see this man I know who does all kinds of ID pictures.”

  She parked on Poydras Street. We got out and went up stairs on the outside of a restaurant. When we walked in, I saw that there was all kind of camera equipment. Without a word, he motioned for me to stand in front of a big white screen. He took what seemed like thousands of pictures, and before I knew what was happening, he handed me a stack of pictures of myself and told me to give him two hundred dollars.

  I was glad that I had taken some money out of the lining of my suitcase and put in my jeans pocket this morning while Rose was in the shower. I was hoping that the ID guy would be the end of it for awhile.

  When we got back out on the street, Rosa said, “Now let’s drop these off, and then we’re going to have about an hour to kill. Anyplace in particular you want to go?”

  “I want to go see a man named Jean,” I said. “He owns an art gallery over on Royal Street.”

  When we walked in, Jean came over to greet me. I introduced him to Rosa, and he took her hand and kissed it.

  “Would you like tea?” he asked.

  I explained to him that we didn’t have much time but that I needed to give him a new phone number. He didn’t comment on my new appearance at all, but he did keep looking at my hair.

  When we got back in the car, Rosa didn’t ask, but she kept looking at me, and I decided to tell her everything. After all, she had given up her whole day to help me, and I couldn’t have done any of this without her. After that, we picked up my new driver’s license and passport, and I gave this guy eight hundred and fifty dollars. As we were headed up I-10 back toward her apartment, I told her everything. She would gasp at times or whistle, look at me like I was some kind of weird creature, then look quickly back at the road.

  When I finished, we were turning off the freeway. She grabbed her pigtail, pulled it from the back and started flipping it. When we went into her apartment, she still hadn’t said anything.

  Then finally, just as I was beginning to wish I hadn’t told her, she said, “I’m sorry. This is all so astonishing. You should write a book. I’ve heard a lot of stories, but if I didn’t have good instincts about people, I would think you were making all this up. I’ll help you with this, Brandy. I really will. I think we can figure this out together. And forget about that disgusting old fart. I don’t think he’ll try to make trouble for you. If he does, he’ll
have me to deal with. But right now, I’m tired,” she said with a yawn. “Let’s take a nap before we have to go to work.”

  Frank was totally all right with me just dancing. He said that some of the other girls just wanted to serve drinks. So it would turn out good and everyone would be happy. Frank wanted to see my driver’s license. The date of birth on it was February 3rd, 1963, which would have made me twenty. My last name was Alexander.

  “Well, I guess we’re all set,” he said, “Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready and so excited. I want to do real well for you, Frank.”

  “You will, doll. Only three girls showed up tonight, so you’re going to be on stage a lot and will have a chance to make a lot of money. Oh, I forgot to tell you, there’s a sandwich place next door. You can go over there and get free sandwiches anytime you’re not on stage. I give them free drinks, and they give my girls free sandwiches. And all your drinks are free also.”

  The rest of the week went smoothly. I was earning good money and told Rosa that I needed to get my own apartment. She said there was no hurry and that she was glad for the company right now because she was between boyfriends.

  When Saturday arrived, the phone woke us up at noon. Rosa grumbled as she rolled over to answer it. When she heard who it was, she sat up in bed wide awake, and started hitting me with her elbow.

  “Brandy, she’s there. Julia’s in the Gallery. We’ll be right down,” she said into the phone.

  I think she was as excited as I was. We got dressed in a hurry and were soon speeding down I-10 towards the French Quarter and Royal Street. We didn’t talk much until she parked the car. Then we started both talking at once, saying how excited we were. I was also scared. What if she didn’t like me? What if she took one look at me and decided she didn’t want anything to do with me?

  I tried to slow my breathing down and took one long deep breath and opened the door. The first thing I saw was Jean talking to a girl who had her back to me. I had thrown on a pair of jeans, but this girl was pure class.