by A. R. Braun
After a few moments, Marie quit feeding her face and glanced at her. “Eat your breakfast, honey. You need your nutrition.”
I can’t tell her. Dick said he’d kill me. But he’d be afraid of his wife, wouldn’t he? Of course, she’s massive.
The severity of what her foster father had done enveloped her. Warm tears streamed down Stacey’s cheeks. “Mom?”
Marie’s eyes softened. “That’s better.” She smiled. “Yes dear?”
“Father… did something…”
Marie frowned. “Spit it out, child.”
“He, um, did something really… bad.”
The butler walked into the room, then stopped to look at Stacey with wide eyes and an open mouth.
She remembered the dream.
A voice out of Gehenna: “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
Stacey met her eyes. “Yes Mom.”
“I know. You got your butt spanked red. Your father told me about it. I’m sorry, but you need discipline.”
“No Mom… he…”
Marie furrowed her brow. “For God’s sake, just say what’s on your mind, girl.”
Stacey waited until Jeebsie had left. “He… beat the heck out of me with a baton.”
Marie looked as if she’d been slapped by a sledgehammer. “What did you say?”
“He, um,” Stacey sobbed, “gave me bruises all over.”
Marie furrowed her brow and shook her head.
“He did, Mom. I swear.”
Marie returned her attention to her food. “Your father wouldn’t do something like that.”
“But Mom! He did!” Stacey started to pull up her sleeves to prove it to her.
Marie slammed her hands down on the table, making Stacey jump and rattling the silverware and the bowls. A pasty, chubby servant girl had come through the double-doors of the kitchen, but retreated to the sweat box’s safety.
“Your father is a decent, hard-working man!” Marie barked as she rose. Her face turned red and that vein stuck out on her forehead again. “He wouldn’t do such a terrible thing. Go to your room and stay there until it’s time to go shopping for your dress!”
“But Mom, let me show you—”
“You keep your arms and legs covered like a good Christian girl. Now get!”
Stacey was so crushed she imagined the look on her face would’ve made Mussolini cry. Defeated, she trudged toward the stairs with her head down. When she crossed the threshold of her room, she heard one more offense from her pseudo-mother before shutting the door.
“The nerve of that fucking piece of shit!”
<^^>
In her room, Stacey fumed.
I hate her, and I hate him. I hate their goddamn guts. Fuck their church, fuck their house, fuck their fancy car.
Stacey imagined killing her foster father and mother while they slept.
A boy at The Children’s Haven told me there are ninety-nine ways to die, but there are actually more.
Stacey had been in her room since breakfast, just staring at the wall, and had come up with 105. But why go to juvenile hall and get raped by girls?
Marie knocked on the door and entered. “Come on, sassy girl, it’s time to go shopping for your dress.”
Unbelievable that they think they’re Christians. If god gives a shit about me, he’ll strike them dead.
Her hands on her hips, Marie asked through clenched teeth, “Are you coming or not?”
“I don’t wanna go.”
“I don’t give a shit. You’re going, or you’re never leaving this house again, except for school and church. Got it?”
Stacey exhaled hard. “Fine.”
“Get your ass over here.”
Deciding her “parents” had beaten her in every conceivable way, Stacey walked over to her and kept her head down.
“You’re not going dressed like that,” Marie cried. “Put on a dress.”
Stacey met her eyes. “Uh! I thought you said you were buying me a dress.”
Marie harrumphed. “Well, smartass, if you would’ve been paying attention, you’d know there’s one of my childhood dresses in your closet right now. I put it in there when you were asleep. We’re aristocrats, and we don’t walk around looking slovenly.”
“You came in here when I was asleep?”
“Yes, I did. It’s my motherfucking house. I can come in anytime I want. Put the dress on and come down, now.”
She left.
Nice Christian word, motherfucking.
Stacey walked to her closet and retrieved the dress. She glared at the ancient fabric, winced at the white lace ruffles, and wanted to set them on fire. She changed into the thing. At least Stacey caught one lucky break, not that it mattered now. Below where the dress had hung were black patent leather shoes. She put them on, and her heels clicked on the landing as she headed down the winding stairs.
When she reached the bottom, Dick and Marie talked with an amiable-looking, middle-aged couple at the front door. The balding man was thin, the woman with glasses rotund.
Dick crossed his arms. “What did you need?”
The man outside the threshold chuckled. “I don’t mean to intrude, sir. My name is Winston Samuelson, and this is my wife, Fanny. We’d like to invite you to a dinner party we’re having tonight.”
Fanny handed Marie what looked like a nut loaf. “Here’s a housewarming gift, uh-huh.”
Marie took the loaf. “Thank you. It looks delicious.”
Stacey walked over and stood beside her fake parents. A sunny day greeted her. The birds chirped and the warm weather wafted in.
Winston fixed his eyes on her and smiled. “Oh, is this your lovely daughter?”
Marie put a hand on Stacey’s shoulder, which made her cringe. “Yes. Actually, she’s our foster child.”
Fanny stooped. “Well, hello there, cute one.”
“Hi,” Stacey said.
Get me the hell out of here, will you?
As if in response to her thought, Marie frowned at her. “Wait in the living room. Mommy and Daddy are in the middle of a conversation.”
Fanny stood and shook her head. “She doesn’t bother me at all, uh-uh.”
“Well, I’m her mother, and I’m telling her to wait in the living room.”
“I’m in the living room,” Stacey said.
Marie scowled. “You’re in the goddamn foyer. Go, now!”
Stacey sighed and left the foyer. I guess it’s all right when she takes god’s name in vain, the hypocrite. She passed by the coat rack and the golden, rotary-dial phone that stood on a wooden stand. Stacey guessed that was just for show. She almost sat on the couch in the living room, but crept closer, hiding around the corner so she could listen.
“Cute little tyke, she is,” Winston said. “So, I hope you can come. The dinner party is at seven.”
“Why, we’d love to,” Dick answered. “We’ll have to get a babysitter for Stacey.”
Babysitter? I’m eleven. I ought to be babysitting. I’m no baby!
“Yes, I’ll call the Stevenson girl,” Marie said. “She was walking around the neighborhood looking for babysitting jobs before we became Stacey’s foster parents. It made me feel bad that we didn’t have kids.”
“Ah,” Winston answered. “Terrific. We’ll see you at sevenish.”
“We’ll be there,” Dick answered.
Stacey leaned around the corner, careful to make sure Dick and Marie’s backs were to her. The neighbors’ faces bore smiles.
Fanny smiled. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Thank you kindly,” Dick answered.
“Good day,” Winston said.
“Good day,” Marie parroted.
With that, the couple left.
Dick snicked the door closed. Stacey pulled back and ran to the couch in the living room. Her “parents” came in.
Stacey rose.
“Okay, teeny tiny,” Marie said, “we’re going to call a sitter for you so we can go to the dinner par
ty tonight.”
“Uh! I’m eleven. I should be babysitting. Can’t I come with you?”
“We can’t have you around all that booze, Stacey,” Dick said.
“You’ll stay here and enjoy it,” Marie added, “or you’ll get your butt beat red again.”
That decided her.
With that, they left for the Elite Clothes store.
<^^>
Sunday morning, Stacey squirmed, trying to get used to the black chiffon dress.
Dick and Marie walked into the living room. Stacey looked over her pseudo-father wearing a three-piece black suit, as well as her “mother’s” nauseating yellow number. What a piece of crap, probably bought ages ago.
She looks like a goddamn canary, and he looks like a funeral director.
“Well,” Marie barked, “don’t just stand there. Come on.”
These two walk into a church, and god will strike them with lightning, if there’s any justice.
CHAPTER FIVE
There was no justice.
As they took their place in the pew, Stacey marveled at the beauty of the church: the majestic cross behind the altar, the gilt sanctuary walls, the live contemporary Christian music, the two big screens containing the lyrics to the hymns, and the flower bouquets here and there, but it all meant nothing because of what Dick had done.
His words haunted Stacey.
If you tell anybody what I just did, I’ll kill you.
Stacey swallowed hard.
He probably would. God, what have I done to deserve this hell?
God didn’t answer.
The temperature was mild in the sanctuary, unlike the frosty environment of her tormentors’ house.
Pastor Everest, a man with a medium build, short gray hair, and a forehead that jutted out like Frankenstein’s monster, spoke of morals in his sermon that Dick and Marie didn’t adhere to.
I hope they learn something, but that’s about as likely as South Park going Christian.
After the service came to an end, Stacey looked up at the creature as her fake parents talked with him.
“Dick, Marie, great to see you as always,” Pastor Everest said.
Dick shook hands with him. “It’s good to be in the house of the lord, pastor.”
Stacey held back tears.
Now it’s time to go back to the house of the devil.
Marie shook the Pastor Everest’s hand. “It was a wonderful sermon, pastor. You just…” She made a hammering gesture with her hand. “… nailed it. Without morals, there’s chaos.”
Stacey forced a smile and inhaled deeply.
How about you get some morals and quit treating me like shit? And while you’re at it, make that fucker of a father quit beating me.
“Thank you, Marie. Lord knows I try.” Everest turned to Dick. “How’s the real estate and landlord business?”
Dick smiled. “Booming as always.”
“Great to hear.” Pastor Everest looked Stacey over. “Ah, I haven’t seen this little one before. Is this your niece?”
Dick pulled her over to him, putting a hand on her shoulder, which made her skin crawl. “No, this little flower is our foster child. Her name is Stacey; honey, say hello to Pastor Everest.”
She shook his hand. “Hello pastor.”
“Hi Stacey. Glad to have you. How’s school?”
“I don’t start till tomorrow.”
“Oh. Have you got new school jitters?”
“No.”
The priest cocked his head and smiled extra-wide. “How nice. I’m glad you’ve found a comfortable home with good Christian parents.”
Stacey chewed her nails.
I’ve yet to find that.
“Well,” Dick interrupted, wringing his hands, “we’ve got to get going—a housewarming party our new neighbors are throwing and all.”
“Oh,” Everest answered. “I’d better leave you be, then. See you Wednesday night.”
“What other church is there?” Marie asked, then laughed.
The pastor smiled. “You have a blessed evening.”
“You have a more blessed one,” Dick answered, “for you’re the pastor.” He grinned like a wolf.
Dick and Pastor Everest snickered as if sharing a private joke. Stacey didn’t get it.
She noticed an overweight, bald man with glasses staring at her. He seemed ready to drool, or perhaps ready to grope or devour her, whichever whim struck his fancy. Stacey shuddered, thinking he was the creepiest-looking guy she’d ever seen.
She fidgeted.
Well, second creepiest.
The stranger got up and headed their way, but Dick picked up his pace, practically dragging Marie out as she complained—though Stacey was glad to hurry—and the “family” was into the foyer before he could catch them.
Stacey trembled.
With that, they headed out to the car.
Stacey wondered if she could tell The Children’s Haven they’d fucked-up by giving her Count Dracula and Countess Bathory as parents. Again, Dick’s words haunted her.
If you tell anybody what I just did, I’ll kill you.
It was a simple-but-effective threat against a girl too young to die.
<^^>
Somehow, Stacey got through the weekend and was glad to go to school. The butler drove her.
Stacey sighed.
This is ridiculous. Why can’t I catch the bus like at my old school?
She listened to the quiet roar of the engine, inhaled the pleasing scent of the leather seats, and gazed out the window. The sun shone brilliantly again. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, despite what she’d told Pastor Everest. At the time, she’d thought this would be easy compared to her home life. She hoped the other kids would like her.
She remembered her dream. In the nightmare, Jeevsie had been psychic, knowing what was going to happen in the future. He’d claimed it would get even worse as time marched on.
How can it get any worse?
Stacey decided she didn’t want to know. The whole way to school she surreptitiously glanced at the butler but, unlike the dream, he just drove quietly, not even looking at her.
“Can I call you Jeevsie?”
“Excuse me, madam?” He craned his neck to look at her.
No one’s ever called me “madam” before.
“I was just wondering if I could call you Jeevsie.”
He gave her another glance after stopping at a red light. “Actually, the name is Jones, madam.” He hesitated. “But you can call me that if you like.”
“You’re not mad?”
He kept his eyes on the road as the light turned green. “It is a little disrespectful. But if you wish.”
“Never mind, Mr. Jones.”
“Very good, madam.”
Yup, just a dream.
Finally, they arrived. Stacey took the school in. It loomed large to her, the tan building harboring endless windows—none of them broken like at the old school—plus smokestacks that seemed to reach the sky. Before he died, Stacey’s father had complained about all the people who didn’t donate money to children’s education, then daring to act like decent citizens. What a crock, he’d said. Well, there was no crock here. In front of the new-looking structure a grass kickball diamond with a cage behind home plate called out to her. To the left, she made out a large concrete play area with swings, monkey bars, and basketball hoops. Red paper cups stuck in the front fence spelled out the word RESPECT.
The chauffeur faced her. Beads of sweat erupted on his forehead as he took a deep breath. He whipped out a hankie and dabbed his face. “Er, madam, can you keep a secret?
Not knowing what to say, Stacey nodded.
“Master Alley can be… cruel. I have no reservations with driving you,” he swallowed loudly, “as far from the house as possible.” Butler Jones dabbed his forehead again.
Nonplussed, Stacey looked at him.
Wow, just like in my dream! But I don’t know him; it could be a trick. Maybe he beats litt
le girls, too. I don’t trust anybody after what Dick did.
She stared at him.
“No?” he added. “Pardon this intrusion, madam, but how have you been sleeping lately?”
She hugged herself, her arms over her chest. Oh, that freaks me out. He is psychic. Even if I let him drive me away, Dick will probably find me. She decided to act natural and flicked her bangs out of her eyes. “Fine.”
“Fine?” Butler Jones took off his chauffeur’s hat and scratched his bald head.
Bald, just like the weirdo at church. Stacey shuddered. Why’s he sweating so much? Oh yuck, he looks like Dick before he beat me. “I, um, think I’ll go to school now.”
His eyes went wide and his face turned pale. “You won’t tell Mr. or Mrs. Alley I said that, will you? You promised to keep a secret. They’ll fire me if you tell, or worse. Please don’t.”
Stacey was uncomfortable as she shook her head. “I won’t.”
Butler Jones smiled and his eyes twinkled. Color came back into his cheeks. He turned around. “Thank you, madam.” He got out of the limousine and walked around to open the door for her. “Have a great first day at school, Miss Alley.”
She climbed out of the limo, glancing behind her in a paranoid fashion.
Oh God, now I’m an Alley? I don’t want their stupid name.
She stared at the note Marie had written her. Stacey was to go to the office and ask them where to start, then tell them she’d missed some of the school year, though she’d learned quite a bit at her old school and at the orphanage.
Her spirit soared at the thought of getting away from those fake parents for a while.
<^^>
Once instructed where to go, Stacey entered a classroom packed with ethnically-diverse children.
The teacher, a beautiful lady with blond hair to the collar, turned to fix her eyes on her. She sported a full bosom in a dress decked-out with flowers, a pearl necklace peeking out from underneath. “Why hello. I’m Miss Major. Go ahead and find a seat.”
Stacey handed her the slip from the office and took an empty seat next to a girl on the left with bushy hair and huge round glasses. A rotund, towheaded boy sat on her right, and a wisp of a girl with blond hair sat in front of her.