DarkHeart of Hampton House

by Joy Redmond

  When the house was cleared, she opened the kitchen door that led out to the garage and motioned for Lance to come inside.

  Lance walked in and glanced around, feeling the headache returning. He hated the perfume that Mrs. Moneybags wore. It was nauseating.

  She took Lance by the hand and led him through the living room, the library and past two bedrooms. Then she took a right and led him into the master bedroom he remembered from their last session.

  As soon as they were in the bedroom, Mrs. Moneybags threw her Gucci bag on the dresser, hurried across the floor, opened a drawer in the bedside table, took out her stash, and cut two lines of coke.

  Lance snorted a line first.

  Mrs. Moneybags snorted the other line, tilted her head, closed her eyes, and uttered, “Aaah, yeah!”

  Lance pushed her aside, poured and cut two more lines and quickly snorted. “Ah, yes indeed,” he said, turning to face her.

  “Hey, take it easy, honey,” she said, unbuttoning his shirt. She took her time undressing him, and Lance could see the look of admiration in her eyes as she gazed upon his rock hard body.

  Lance lay across the bed, the satin sheets soothing to his nude body. He watched with amusement as Mrs. Moneybags did a striptease, bumping and grinding to music piped throughout the house. After the dance, she jumped into the middle of the bed, crawled in circles on her hands and knees, barking like a playful pup, nipping at Lance’s heels. “Autoerotic asphyxiation?”

  Lance had a painful erection. “Yes, but this time I get to do you.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “I know exactly. I was taught by the master.” He pushed her on her back and entered her, foregoing the usual foreplay. He watched her face contort with pleasure, even though he was being a bit brutal.

  “Now!” she said as her body arched in an orgasm.

  Lance wrapped his powerful hands around her throat. Suddenly her face began to melt and reshape, transforming into a young girl with slanted eyes, long black hair, and tiny bare breasts. Her pelvis thrust upward, faster and faster. Her long nails dug into his flesh.

  He pushed his thumbs against her Adam’s Apple, and mumbled, “Die, you commie bitch!”

  Her body flailed. Her eyes bulged. She beat her fists against his chest. Then her arms fell limp by her side. Her eyes were wide open, but Lance knew she didn’t see anymore.

  Lance straddled her dead body, gave a Tarzan yell, and ejaculated. The grand finale! He jumped from the bed, quickly dressed into his jeans, tank top, and sneakers.

  Before leaving the room he glanced down at Mrs. Moneybags. “Damn, I didn’t mean to do that. But you being a married woman and fooling around with me, makes you a bad girl. You needed to be punished. And you were nothing but a lost, lonely person. Your fancy living style only brought you misery because your husband doesn’t have time for ya anymore. So, I reckon I did you a favor and put you out of your misery.”

  He ran through the house, out a back door, and slithered his body against the outside walls of the house until he was in the front yard.

  His mind went back to the day he had killed the Asian girl and dumped her tiny body into a dumpster, knowing she was going to be ground up as if she were no more than a piece of sausage at hog killing time. The thrill of the kill had been awesome. It had been too long since he’d felt such a rush.

  He wound his way down hills and streets for miles and miles. I have to hurry and make it back to Jimmy’s. I can’t be detected. An hour and a half later, he unlocked the front door of his apartment and hurried inside. Randy still wasn’t home and he was relieved.

  He made his way into the kitchen in darkness, not wanting to turn on a light, not wanting anybody to know he was there. He backed against a wall, slumped to the floor, holding his throbbing head in his hands, panting for breath. His clothes were drenched with sweat. He sat on the floor, reliving the euphoria when he saw Mrs. Moneybags’ eyes bulge.

  He continued to sit, waiting for his rapid heartbeat to slow down to normal. Or as normal as it could get after doing a double dose of cocaine. After a few more minutes, he opened the fridge. He needed water. His throat was as dry as desert sand.

  The light from the fridge felt blinding and he turned his head before reaching for the water bottle. That’s when he saw a piece of paper propped on the table. Holding the fridge door open with his foot, he reached for the paper. Using the fridge light, he began to read.

  Dear Lance,

  I’m sorry I missed you before it was time for me to catch my plane. I hadn’t mentioned my plans to you because it was too dangerous. I’ve been seeing a client, the love of my life for over four years. He loves me as much as I love him. He had to get some personal things settled before he could send for me, but I’m finally on my way to Paris, France.

  I’ll never be able to return to the states. Boss Lady would have my head on a platter. I’m sure she’s already put out the word to have me knocked off. I’m going to live with one of her best clients which will cost her big money, and she’ll be losing even more by me not bringing in the big bucks for her as I’ve done for many years.

  I’ll miss you very much, just as I did when I fled Hampton House. I’m so happy I got to spend some time with you in the past eight years. It was hard to say goodbye to you those many years ago, but I had hope that we’d meet again someday. Sure enough, we did. But this is a final goodbye, as much as it pains me.

  I hope someday you find a love like I have. Please slow down with your drinking and doing drugs. And most of all, be very careful with Boss Lady. Don’t cross her. She’s powerful and dangerous.

  Love,

  Your big brother, always

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lance folded the paper, shook his head and mumbled. “Jimmy, Jimmy. You little fool. That fat sonofabitch will leave ya in the cold someday when you get a little more age on ya. But I can’t change things. And I’ve got to get my ass out of town too. Good luck, ole buddy. I’ll miss ya. And you don’t have to worry about me and Boss Lady. I’ve already double-crossed her, but by the time she finds out, I’ll be long gone.”

  Lance hurried into his bedroom. He wanted to take a shower, but thought better of wasting what he considered precious time. He grabbed a large suitcase from the shelf of the closet and threw it on the bed. He yanked clothes off hangers and stuffed them into the suitcase. He grabbed socks and underwear from drawers and stuffed them in. He scooped up two dime bags of marijuana and his rolling papers from the bedside table and his Zippo. He grabbed his plastic bag full of various pills from under the mattress. Then he shut the suitcase, locked it, and slipped the key into his jeans pocket.

  Sweat was drenching his clothing again as he reached under his bed and retrieved his briefcase. He patted the case as if it were a puppy, smiled, and cautioned himself to stay in control. The key to the briefcase was on his person at all times.

  His mind raced. It was too risky to call a cab. It was too long a walk to the airport. But there was a bus station a few blocks from the apartment. He grabbed his belongings, hurried from the apartment, and began a brisk walk. He wanted to run, but he cautioned himself to act normal. Nobody carrying a suitcase and a briefcase jogged at two o’clock in the morning. His heart was racing and his head was pounding.

  The streets were busy as usual, but not congested. He kept up a brisk pace until he reached the bus station. Once inside he walked up to the ticket counter and met a pair of cold eyes.

  “Where to, buddy?” Cold Eyes asked.

  “Mount Hill, North Carolina,” Lance answered. He drummed his fingers on the ticket window ledge, then leaned on his right elbow with his back to the ticket manager. He scanned the room. He saw his reflection in a plate glass window. Who am I? I think it’s time I find out. Ole Ruby is gonna give me some information or by God I’ll choke it outta her.

  “Here you are. That’ll be sixty-two dollars, even,” said Cold Eyes. “Have a nice trip.”

  Lance care
fully counted out the money, handed it over and took his ticket. He tucked it into his shirt pocket with Jimmy’s note. You’re going with me to get some answers, Jimmy.

  He headed to the restroom and emptied his bladder that was ready to burst. He went over to the small sink, turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face. He took a few deep breaths, then reached into his jeans pocket, withdrew his pill pouch, found a red devil and popped it into his mouth. He cupped his right hand and caught water from the tap and swallowed the downer, hoping it would slow his heart rate.

  He strolled back to the waiting room and took a seat. Thirty minutes later he boarded the bus.

  Lance stretched his legs as far as he could and pushed against the seat in front of him with his knees.

  The next four days were the longest of his life. He’d been cramped up in the bus seat with few stops for him to stretch. He was tired of being confined. He was tired of traveling. He was tired of the reeking armpits that surrounded him. He sighed with relief as the bus pulled into the station in Mount Hill, North Carolina.

  He stood, stretched his arms high over his head, then grabbed his briefcase from the seat. He waited as the other passengers maneuvered around him and got off the bus. He was the last person off. He descended the three bus steps and looked upward, cupping his right hand over his brow, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. Then he remembered his dark sunglasses were in his pocket. He was thankful he hadn’t left them behind.

  It was May 1975, eight years to the month since he had seen the North Carolina sun, and it was invigorating. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with fresh mountain air. “Home,” he mumbled. He felt nostalgic. Why do I feel a stirring for a place I hate? The place I swore I would never return to in this lifetime.

  The awesome mountains made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He tried to sort his conflicting emotions about his whereabouts, but nothing made sense.

  He also felt smug and he wanted to laugh aloud. I’m three-thousand miles from California. No way I’ll be found or questioned about two dead whores. Nobody in California knows I’m from North Carolina. Nobody knows my name. Nobody knows I was with Mrs. Moneybags the night she died. And Jimmy is in Paris.

  He retrieved his suitcase and briskly walked down the sidewalk. His instincts steered him north. Walking had never been as needful or pleasurable. He wanted to run, jump, and scream like a playful child, his emotions still on a rollercoaster.

  Thanks to Lance’s clients, he had plenty of “happy pills” neatly tucked into a pill pouch, in his pant pocket. Uppers: Dexedrine, Benzedrine, Oberdrine. Downers: Seconal, Nembutal, Valium, and his favorite, Quaaludes. The downers, “dolls” gave him a peaceful float. The uppers, “devils” got his juices flowing and made him feel as if he were Alexander the Great and could conquer the world.

  The closer he came to the dirt lane, the more his guts knotted. He pulled the pill pouch from his pocket and took out two Valium. He figured twenty milligrams on an empty stomach would mellow him quickly. He tried to picture Ruby Hampton’s face as she opened the front door of Hampton House. Would ole Ruby faint? Spit in his face? Be overcome and speechless? Or none of the above? His stomach knotted harder.

  Hampton House was almost obscured by an overgrowth of wisteria and myrtle. Ruby always made sure the lane was clipped and cleared year around. He slowed his pace. Something was wrong.

  The yard was covered with pinecones, hickory nuts, and sweet-gum balls, or monkey balls as he’d always called them. Ruby would never allow monkey balls or pinecones to clutter the place. Hickory nuts were never allowed to lie on the ground for long. Ruby said hickory nuts were God’s gift to them. It was their manna from heaven.

  He reached the front yard, turned in circles, remembering how he had picked up and hauled many hickory nuts in the little red wagon. No children were playing in the yard? No Ruby Hampton barking orders? An eerie feeling came over him. He walked up the three steps, innards trembling, and his hand felt as if it were fifty pounds of lead as he raised it. He knocked. Waited. Knocked once more. Just as he reached for the doorknob, the door swung open.

  He stared at a young, pretty, blonde-haired girl. She began to scream and the shrill sound was deafening and blood curdling. He stared into her piercing blue eyes. Words froze in his throat. He lowered his suitcase and briefcase to the floor, his mind spinning so fast he felt dizzy.

  “Lance! Lance!” she yelled, sending chills up his spine with her high-pitched, hawk-like shriek. “It’s me. Bonnie Sue.” She threw her arms around Lance’s neck, nearly knocking him off balance.

  He pulled at her arms and loosened her grip, then held her at arm’s length. “Bonnie Sue! Well kiss my long-gone-ass. My, you sure did grow up to be a beauty. I can’t believe my eyes.” His gaze quickly moved to the right of Bonnie Sue. Ruby Hampton is near, I feel her.

  He peered around Bonnie Sue, ready to jump, throw his arms in the air and yell, “Surprise!”

  Ruby didn’t come into view. There was not a sound in the house except Bonnie Sue’s shrieking. He blinked, rubbed his brow, and goose bumps rose on his arms. Am I in another dimension? Maybe the Twilight Zone?

  Bonnie Sue pulled on Lance’s arm. “Come on in. Here, let me take your cases.”

  Lance grabbed her hand. “Just leave them. I’ll get them later,” he said, and peered around Bonnie Sue again. Ole Ruby is coming from somewhere at any minute. I can feel her.

  Bonnie Sue did a half turn and motioned with her right hand. “Have a seat. You want a glass of iced tea?”

  He stepped further into the living room. He craned his neck, looking up the staircase. He stared as if he were hypnotized. “Where’s ole Ruby?” he managed to ask.

  “Miss Hampton had a stroke about six months ago. She’s in Rest Haven Nursing Home. She sure will be glad to see you—” Bonnie Sue stopped talking when Lance gave her one of his hard looks. He remembered back when Bonnie Sue always seemed to be trying to figure out what was behind his dark, piercing eyes—the eyes that he knew had given her a thrill when she looked into them.

  “For the past eight years, I’ve dreamed and prayed that you’d someday return and claim me as your true love,” she said as if she were a school girl. “Your eyes don’t seem to dance and twinkle in a playful way like they used to. But you’re home. That’s all that matters,” she said.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” Lance flatly answered. “So, ya say ole Ruby had a stroke? I bet she still gives orders, expecting everybody to bend to her beck and call.” He chuckled, slightly. “I bet she can’t strap the nurses or aides when they don’t do things as quickly as she wants or exactly how she wants.”

  He continued to look around the room. Nothing had changed inside the house. The furniture was still in the same spot. Everything was clean, not a speck of dust, something ole Ruby was very strict about.

  “Where’s all the kids?” Lance asked. Hampton House had always swarmed with kids.

  “They all grew up and left. Don’t ya remember? Me and Mary Lou was the last ones brought here. I ain’t got nowhere to go, and Miss Hampton said I could live with her as long as I want. She said she needs me. And Mary Lou done got married and moved to Huntsville, Alabama. She married a good man. I miss her so bad some days I cry for hours. We’ve been together since we was four-years-old. She was my best friend. I feel like I lost my right arm—”

  “Bonnie Sue, for christsake! Shut up!” Lance yelled. “Damn girl, your mouth runs full throttle.”

  She flinched, tucked her head, and tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t have nobody to talk to and I guess I get so full, I let it all out at once. And I’m so happy to see you. Oops, sorry. I’ll shut up now,” she said, twisting a strand of hair, her eyes begging forgiveness.

  Lance ran his hand through his thick mane. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m tired and coming back here brings back a lot of memories.” He drew in a deep breath, then lifted his nose like a bloodhound on the trail and sniffed. “Do I smell home
cooking? What have you got cooked up? That’s why I’m in such a grumpy mood. I’m hungry, girl,” he said, patting her on the butt, giving her a seductive smile that could melt an iceberg.

  She flushed as she threw her hands to her face. “Oh, my, where’s my good manners?” She pushed her cheeks together. “Come on in the kitchen. I’ve got plenty cooked. I cook to give myself something to do and I’m so used to cooking big meals that I do it out of habit and sometimes—oops, sorry, I’ll shut up now,” she said, taking Lance by the hand, gently tugging.

  They walked into the old kitchen and Lance looked around, eyeing the cabinet where Ruby kept the clove ointment. He wondered if it was still there. He slowly lowered his body into a chair and held his head in his hands.

  Bonnie headed for the bathroom, and he heard water running. He supposed she was washing her hands before she served him food. Hand washing was a strict rule in Hampton House.

  Why did I come back here? Why do I care if I was dumped on the doorstep as if I were a mangy mutt, infested with parasitic mites? After all these years, why do I want to know who I really belong to? His anger was brewing because he couldn’t answer his own questions.

  Bonnie Sue came out of the bathroom, hurried to the stove, and lifted tops off pans, releasing the aroma of fresh green beans, squash, potatoes, and baby carrots. Then she opened the oven door and lifted a rack of pork chops seasoned with fresh green onions and lemon pepper. She opened a drawer by the stove and took out large spoons, and dipped them into each pot. She piled a plate, arranging the food just so. She proudly walked back to the table and set the plate in front of Lance.

  She pulled a chair, sat down next to Lance. “Oh, I forgot the iced tea.” She rose from the chair and spun her body around as if she were a top.

  “I don’t like iced tea. Have you got any lemonade?” he asked, flashing a charming smile. He wanted to laugh when Bonnie Sue gasped. That was overwhelming, I guess. Maybe I need to tone down the charm before she swoons or forms a puddle in the floor.