DarkHeart of Hampton House

by Joy Redmond

  Lance walked the beach and ogled the bikini babes. “A gaggle of girlies,” he mumbled with a chuckle. He watched the surfers too. He’d never tried surfing, didn’t really have an interest in it, but it intrigued him. He noticed a male surfer giving him the eye. The same surfer he had seen every time he had spent time on the beach during the day. Lance chuckled and said, “The old once-over, huh? You little faggot!”

  The sun-bronzed specimen walked over to Lance, smiling seductively. He was a young blond, blue-eyed, muscular man. He extended his hand, looked Lance up and down and said, “Hi.”

  Lance held a smirk as he extended his hand and shook, gripping as hard as he could, waiting for pretty boy to flinch or try to withdraw his hand.

  “Nice grip you got there. Nice body too,” Blondie said, not breaking eye contact with Lance. His eyes were showing a mischievous, childlike quality. Then he smiled, big.

  Lance looked closely into Blondie’s eyes. It was as if he was reliving a memory of long ago. He studied the smile. He saw how one eye-tooth slightly overlapped a front tooth. He noticed a slight scar in the left corner of the mouth. Then Lance let out a whoop. “Jimmy? Jimmy Conners, you sonofabitch!”

  Lance grabbed Jimmy in his arms and squeezed him in a bear hug. “Damn, man. What are you doing here?”

  Jimmy laughed, slapped Lance on the back and said, “I wondered how long it would take ya to recognize me. I’ve been watching ya for a few days. So today I thought I’d just walk over and give you a closer look. I recognized you the first time I saw ya. There ain’t another set of eyes in the world like you’ve got. Miss Hampton always said she could look into your eyes and see a dark heart. But I always knew you were just paining inside. You sure are a handsome man. But ya always were a good looking dude, even when you were a little boy.”

  Lance stood back. “Just look at ya, Jimmy. You’ve turned out to be a handsome dude too. Look at them muscles,” he said, squeezing Jimmy’s arms. “The last time I saw you, you were a tall, skinny boy with close chopped hair and a bunch of pimples all over your face. You were ugly!”

  Lance and Jimmy laughed and hugged again. “Jesus, just look at you now. So what happened when you took off, Jimmy? It sure was a sad day for me.”

  “Well, I left Hampton House, got to the main road, stuck out my thumb and here’s where I ended up. I didn’t have any destination in mind, I just kept riding until I hit the west coast. I met a lot of nice people along way. They took pity on me, fed me and here I am. How did you get all the way out here?”

  “Pretty much the same story, Jimmy boy,” Lance answered. “So what do you for a living? I need to find work.”

  Jimmy laughed. “You won’t believe it, but I service ladies. Yep, I kind of lost a lot of my religion and decided I was human with needs the Good Lord gave me and they needed to be fulfilled. I’ve come a long way with my thinking since I’ve been on my own. A body does what body has to do to survive. Oh, and my name is Randy. Dandy Randy, the ladies call me. I’d prefer that you call me Randy too. If ya don’t mind. I don’t want a name or anything else to remind me of who I used to be. I’ve got legal papers saying my name is Randy Rhodes.

  Lance laughed. “I can’t say as I blame ya. I’d like to forget it all too. And I’ll honor your request. From now on, you’re Randy. But I think I’ll keep my name. Changing my name won’t change my past. Now, about them ladies. Do you mean real ladies or wannabes?”

  Randy gave a slight chuckle. “My door swings both ways. And the women are both ways. And very rich,” he answered, raising his right eyebrow up and down. “I work for an escort service. The women pay a handsome price for my talents. Some are natural born women, some are made-to-be, and some are wannabes. It doesn’t matter to me because I give them pleasure, and I receive pleasure. What a job, huh?”

  Lance cocked his head and smiled. “I’ve got talents that women find irresistible too. I wouldn’t mind getting paid for giving them pleasure. But I won’t be pleasuring any men, so you can forget that. I’ll leave that kind for you.”

  Randy stroked Lance’s muscular arm. “You have the body and looks that could make you a fortune. There are thousands of lonely women who are tired of being ignored by their husbands, and there are plenty of gender-benders too. Both are rich and very generous. They’d pay top dollar to get their hands on you.”

  “Tell me how I go about working as an escort,” Lance said, feeling invigorated for the first time since he had gotten to California.

  Randy hesitated a few minutes before answering. He merely eyed Lance, his eyes toying.

  “Don’t yank my chain, you sonofabitch! I’m serious!”

  Randy smiled and said, “Come with me to my apartment. I’ll shower, dress, and then I’ll introduce you to Boss Lady. I don’t live far.” He began walking, looking over his shoulder. His smile broadened as Lance caught up. “Do we need to stop by your place for you to change clothes—oh never mind, I’ve got clothes that will fit. We’re the same size now. Who would have ever thought it, huh? Me, the little scrawny kid, and you, always the brute.” He chuckled and punched Lance on the arm. “Anyway, I know how Boss Lady wants her boys dressed.”

  Randy slid his arms around Lance’s shoulders. “Hang with me. I’ll get you in fancy duds and I’ve got a nice apartment we can share. Man, I can’t believe after all these years, we’re together again.”

  Lance was happy to see Jimmy again, but he wasn’t one for showing emotions. It was as if they had been torn out of him a long time ago, and they were gone forever.

  Randy stopped beside a Cadillac Coupe DeVille.

  “You own a Caddy? Wow. I’ve always said someday I’d own me one. And a red one, just like this,” Lance said, rubbing his hands over the roof and passenger door. You’ve sure come a long way, Jimmy, I mean, Randy.”

  “That I have. I’ll take care of ya, just like I did when we were kids. I’ll give ya a nice place to live and you’re welcome to my wardrobe. I’ve got plenty.”

  Lance slid onto the passenger’s seat and said. “I’m not some hobo ya gotta take care of. I just need a start. Just want ya to know.”

  Randy held a serious look as he said, “Hey, dude, I didn’t mean to insult you. Like I said, I’ve got a nice apartment and room enough for you too. As for clothes, I know how Boss Lady wants her men to dress and I wanted you to make a good first impression. Wear whatever you want.”

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to seem testy. You’re right. I want to make a good impression and you know how I should look for the occasion. I’d be honored to wear your clothes. Do you mind to swing by the motel, let me gather my things, and check out?”

  “Point the way,” Randy answered.

  Soon, Lance had his suitcase packed, checked out of the motel, glad he didn’t have to spend another night in the cramped room, then headed out and climbed into the car with Randy.

  A few minutes later, Randy pulled into a driveway.

  Lance glanced around. “Nice complex.”

  “Not the best, but not bad,” Randy answered. They got out of the car and headed for the front door. Randy unlocked his door, stepped aside, and said, “After you.”

  Lance walked inside. Randy had a spacious apartment and it was beautifully decorated. Expensive artwork hung on every wall. It takes a lot of money to buy this kind of shit. I sure would like to make as much as Jimmy’s making. He glanced down at the shag carpet. Lance kicked off his flip-flops and walked around in circles. “Man, this feels good. Those damn cold linoleum floors we had to walk on at Hampton House about froze my feet off. You’ve done okay, ole buddy. This place is beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” Randy answered. “I decorated it myself. I love art and I get carried away with my spending at times. But what the heck, you can’t take it with you,” he said, then chuckled as he added, “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Do you still think Jesus gets mad when we cuss?” Lance asked, chuckling. “I remember you telling me that when I was about six-years ol
d. That was about the time I started repeating all the cuss words I’d heard from Warren. God, I hated him. But he sure didn’t take any shit from ole Ruby. She boxed his ears forty ways from Sunday, and he’d just laugh. I had to admire him for that.”

  “Warren was just hurting inside like we were. Not knowing who you belonged too, not knowing why your family gave you away, not feeling like you even belonged in this world. Miss Hampton tried to give him a good upbringing, but he was just born with bad blood. You can’t change that.”

  “Well, Jimmy, I mean Randy, do you think ole Ruby gave us a proper upbringing? We were her slaves and she got paid for keeping us. Do you really think it was proper for her to take the whip to us, lock us in closets, and make us go to bed hungry after a hard day’s work?” Lance gritted his teeth and clinched his fist, wanting to knock a hole in the wall.

  “She never took the whip to me or locked me in a closet. And I did my share of work but she needed help. She had all them kids to take care of and she was just one person.”

  Lance sensed that Jimmy Conners was still somewhere, deep inside Randy’s heart, and he was defending the woman who had taken him in when his own mother had given him up. “Well, Hampton House is behind us, Randy. We’re not orphans anymore and we can take care of ourselves. But I wanna tell ya. If it hadn’t been for you taking care of me when I was little, I don’t know how I would have survived. As for ole Ruby, I have different feelings because she wasn’t as easy on me as she was you. She said you were delicate.”

  “Randy doesn’t like to talk about or remember Jimmy. Okay? And ya really should show some respect and stop calling her ole Ruby.”

  “Whatever ya say, buddy.” Lance felt one of his horrible headaches coming on. “Say, do you have anything to drink? I could use a shot of whiskey.”

  “Nah, I don’t drink hard liquor. I have a glass of wine now and then, but I don’t keep any in the house. Sometimes I feel it necessary to sip a little wine when I’m with a client—”

  “Ah, man. Don’t go all goodie-two-shoes on me. You sell your body, but you don’t drink hard liquor? What kind of thinking is that?”

  “I don’t sell my body. I give and receive pleasure and my clients give me gifts. If I wasn’t enjoying what I was doing, then I’d be selling my body. There’s a difference.”

  “Whatever you say, Dandy Randy. So, which room is mine?”

  “Right this way.”

  Lance followed Randy down a hallway with hardwood floors, noticing that even the hall was decorated with paintings. Randy pointed to their right and said, “That’s your bathroom. I have one in my bedroom.” A few more steps and Randy opened a door at the end of the hall. “This will be your boudoir.”

  “Boudoir,” Lance repeated with a chuckle. He stepped inside the room and enjoyed the soft carpet that almost tickled the soles of his feet. The bedroom was a bit too feminine for Lance, with a pink frilly bedspread and curtains to match. His eyes didn’t think the pink went with the brown-and-yellow shag carpet, either. The picture hanging over the bed was fascinating. It was a nude. The girl in the picture didn’t look any older than fifteen, maybe sixteen, and she was sitting in a swing that was hanging from a tree limb.

  He blinked his eyes as he had a flashback of the tree swing in the front yard at Hampton House. He could see Bonnie Sue sitting in the swing, clutching tightly to the chains attached to the seat as Mary Lou pushed her. He quickly brought his mind back to where he was.

  “Now that’s a picture,” he said, pointing his index figure. “I kind of like having her over my bed.”

  “That was a gift from a client. It’s okay, I guess.”

  “I think I’ll do fine here. Thanks again for taking me in.”

  “Glad to have you. I do get a little lonesome at times.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh, it’s time for my soap. You wanna watch it with me?”

  “You watch your soap, Dandy Randy,” Lance said with a chuckle, and punched Randy on the arm. “As for me, I’m going out and find some good whiskey. I’ll meet Boss Lady tomorrow. My nerves are a bit on edge. See ya later.”

  “Well, okay. But if you get back before dinner time, we can still go see Boss Lady.”

  “I have no idea what time I’ll be back. It’ll depend on what I find.” Lance deep chuckled as he headed out the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lance walked outside, slipped on his dark sunglasses, stood on the sidewalk, then walked to the entrance of the apartment complex. He stood a minute, looking both ways. Then he started walking where his instincts led.

  Three blocks up the street, he spied a bar. He walked inside and stood still, surveying his surroundings. The place was small and empty, the way he liked it. He strolled over to the bar and slid onto a stool. Whiskey had never sounded so good to him. And he wouldn’t mind a joint or two, but he’d have to wait until he got to know people better. However, if he could make friends with the bartender, he was sure he could get some information and soon be able to buy some good ole Maryjane.

  He thought about the afternoons he had spent with Mr. Wiggins, drinking and toking. You taught me about the finer things in life for sure, man. I’ll always be grateful for the time I spent with ya. And a good romp with Caroline would be nice about now.

  “What can I get you?” came a deep voice.

  Lance snapped out of his reverie. “Jack Daniel’s straight. Water back.”

  Lance knocked back shot after shot, his headache easing, the past fading from his mind. He was in a numb place and he planned on staying there. Lance glanced toward the end of the bar when he saw a girl take a stool. He figured she must have been in the restroom when he had come in. He took a closer look at her.

  Well, kiss my lucky ass! He checked out her attire. She was dressed in a pair of tattered jeans, a tank top with obvious stains down the front and she had on a pair of flip-flops. Her hair was a tangled mess that didn’t look as if it had seen a comb or brush in days.

  Lance held up his shot glass. The bartender was pouring, and Lance said, “Who’s the chick down there?” motioning with his head.

  “Ah, she’s one of those pitiful Vietnam war-brides. Them damn GI’s go over there, marry them, bring them to America, then dump them. She comes in here often. She just wants some man to buy her a drink, maybe buy her something to eat, and probably stupid enough to think some dude will take her home and keep her in style. It’s sad if you ask me.”

  “Send a drink down to her on me,” Lance said.

  Lance watched as the bartender mixed a drink. He knew what she liked to drink, which told Lance she actually did come in often and men bought her drinks, and probably got their money’s worth later. Bartender took the drink to her, then he nodded his head toward Lance.

  The girl smiled at Lance and nodded her thanks.

  I do believe I have her attention, he thought, as he made his way to the end of the bar and slid on a stool next to her. “You speak English?”

  “I speaky Engrish,” she said with a broad smile.

  “Good. What do you say we get out of here and maybe have a nice meal somewhere?”

  “Ah, goot idea. I know goot prace. You likey Chinese?”

  “I’ve never eaten Chinese, but I’m always open to something new. You go on out, walk a block down the street and wait for me.”

  “Okee,” she said as he picked up her large bag, and headed toward the door.

  Lance went back to the barstool where he had been sitting and ordered another shot. He knocked it back, then threw a few dollars on the bar, slipped on his dark sunglasses and headed outside.

  He spied the girl a block away, leaning against a parking meter. He quickly caught up with her. As she smiled broadly, he lifted his shades and said, “Do you turn tricks?” When he saw a blank expression on her face, he said, “You know…” as he rubbed his crotch.

  “Oh, you want sucky-fucky?”

  “Yeah, sucky, but no fucky.”

  “You no eat first?”

  “No, we
eat later. Business first.”

  “Where you car?” she asked with a big smile.

  “No car. You have a place?”

  “I know prace. Come,” she said, taking his hand.

  “No, you go on ahead and I’ll follow a few paces behind.”

  Lance watched her hurry down the street as if she were scared the wrong person would see her. Three more blocks down the street, she headed down a dark alley.

  Lance lingered a few minutes, looking in all directions. Nobody seemed to be looking his way. He turned the corner and hurried on his way. He hated alleys, but it was his only choice.

  Midway down the alley, the girl stopped beside two large garbage dumpsters. He noticed a few mannequins had been dumped beside the last dumpster. Department store cleanout, he guessed.

  Lance caught up with her.

  “You against wall. Me on knees. Nobody see.”

  Lance braced himself against the brick building, between the two large dumpsters and unzipped his jeans.

  “You pay ‘mercan dolla, first.”

  Lance reached into his back pocket and took out a hundred dollar bill, then stuck it into her cleavage.

  “Okee. Fanks,” she said, as she knelt down in front of him. She looked up and smiled, stretching her long, slender neck.

  Lance placed his powerful hands around her throat, and pushed his thumbs against her Adam’s Apple. She beat her fist against his crotch and fought with all her might. Lance got an erection. Then he applied more pressure. As her eyes bulged, he ejaculated. Her body went limp and she fell flat on the concrete, her head hitting so hard, Lance heard her skull crack.

  He stood for a few minutes as tingles ran through his body. It felt a lot better to kill a person than it did to kill an animal—just as he suspected it would. He looked down at the lifeless heap. “You were a bad girl and you had to be punished. Your kind are killing Americans. I did my patriotic duty. And I also did you a favor. Soon, some man would pick you up, take you to some godforsaken place, rape and torture you to death. My way was quick and easy. I saved you from a life of hell on the streets. You don’t need to thank me.”