by A. R. Braun
“Yeah,” Devon said. “Way cool.”
Therese looked at Amanda. “Do people get stuck on elevators sometimes?”
Amanda cracked a half smile as she pushed the button for the seventh floor. “It’s rare. We have techs that work twenty-four seven that can come out and fix it right away. Plus, there are two cables.”
The elevator lurched.
Stacey’s mind swam. “Oh my.”
Amanda stepped closer, looking her in the eye. “Are you all right?”
The car moved and Stacey thought she’d be sick. She could tell they headed upward. Oh my god, I’m scared to death. “Sure. We’ve just… never been on an elevator before.”
Amanda cocked her head to the side. “You don’t have to lie to me that you’re all right. I’m your counselor, remember?”
The older kids stared at Stacey, their eyes growing a bit wider.
“All right,” Stacey agreed. “I’m scared to death.”
The older children laughed and echoed that sentiment.
“My eldest kids have never been out in the real world,” Stacey continued, “and I was only in it till I was eighteen, like another life. My middle-aged nerves are frazzled, actually.”
Amanda smiled, showing pearly whites. “That’s normal. We’re going to get you through this, don’t worry.”
The elevator dinged and stopped. The doors whined a bit as they opened. Stacey grew even more nervous as she saw a well-lit hallway with a couple of nurses passing. An older man, the fingers of one hand all out of joint, mumbled to himself as he shuffled down the hallway.
God help me, I’m in an insane asylum.
Amanda got off the elevator with the orderlies and motioned for the family to follow her. “Come on, we won’t bite. I promise.”
Stacey wondered if that was true. She looked over her youngest. “Watch the little ones,” she commanded Therese, Devon, or whatever girl was paying attention. “Can I talk to you alone for a second?” She pulled Amanda aside.
“Sure.” Amanda let herself be guided a stone’s throw away from the others. “What’s up?”
Stacey continued to watch the few patients walking the halls. A woman power-paced around, then stopped at the nurse’s station. She begged for more medication.
Stacey asked, “Is this really necessary? Can’t the city just put us up in an apartment somewhere? I mean, my grandparents are dead, so… We could go to therapy and all, but—”
Amanda touched Stacey’s arms. “Hon, you know the severity of the trauma you and the kids have been through. If I were you, I’d be out of my gourd. I wouldn’t even know my own name. I don’t want to scare you but, like I said before, you and your children are going to need extensive therapy.”
Stacey sighed and looked at the floor.
Amanda let her go and moved her head forward to command her attention back. “It’s not forever. I promise.”
Stacey glanced at the nurse’s station. The old man from before drank one cup, then another.
Stacey looked at Amanda. “These people scare me.”
“Like I said, I’m taking you to your own room. People aren’t going to just wander in. The nurses will ride their butts if they come into other people’s living spaces.”
Rage burned within her. “Whatever.” Though she regretted it, she turned her back on Amanda and walked over to her kids.
Therese held Kyra. The latter had her eyes closed, her head on her big sister’s shoulder.
“Look, Mom. She’s out like a light.”
Stacey chuckled.
“This way,” Amanda said.
They followed her. When they reached the end of the hallway, the thin orderly opened the wooden door wide, gesturing for Stacey to enter.
Amanda walked in first. “Welcome to the imperial suite.”
The children’s eyes looked betrayed as they stood outside the door. Tearfully, Stacey followed, gazing around as the fluorescent lights buzzed. The room looked institutional.
And lonely, oh so lonely.
Wesley shut the door, causing Stacey to wheel on him. Then her hormones went through the roof.
Oh, mercy! Lust! I never got to be a woman.
Stacey walked to the window and looked at the city lights. She was indeed far up. This made her mind lurch all the more.
Amanda said, “I’m afraid you don’t have a roommate right now, but that’s not out of the question for the future.”
The thought of a roommate frightened her. Stacey walked over and fell into more than sat on one of the two beds. She chewed her nails.
Amanda stood before her. “Don’t be afraid. Just get a good night’s rest. You’re safe now, and you’ll see your kids at mealtime in the cafeteria. I don’t usually give privileges like that this fast, but you need to be with your children.”
But Stacey was not comforted, especially when the woman who’d asked for more meds began screaming outside her door.
<^^>
Therese sighed, knowing what was next and missing her mother like hell.
I’m the oldest, so I’m in charge.
She and Bobbi shared a room with two beds. Amanda had told them that Devon would bunk with Kyra, and Sam would share a room with Louisa. There were a couple of brown tables, a desk, and a large window in Therese’s room. The city lights outside her window screamed to her from where she stood. This was the first children’s room they’d looked at, and the others felt betrayed. They’d whined and bitched. The kids broke free from Amanda and ran over to her. To her right, the door opened on a bathroom. Therese had never seen living quarters so clean.
Amanda said, “You’re at the end of the hall where there won’t be much noise. Your sisters have the two rooms closest to yours.”
“Therese, this is cool,” Devon cried with her hands on the window. “You can look down on the city. I feel like Supergirl!”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “this is awesome.”
Therese had to have a closer look. She walked over and stared downward. The abundance of city lights, the businesses, the huge homes on the hills, and a grand steeple of a church sticking up higher than any of them took her breath away. She put her hands on the cold window. The heater kicked in and she exhaled, delighted by the blast of warmth. And the air; she could breathe deeply now.
“Quite a view,” Amanda said from behind her.
Therese sighed as she turned to face her. “I miss Mom.”
“Me too,” Devon said.
“Me three,” Sam agreed.
“We four, five, and six,” the triplets cried.
Amanda said, “I’m sorry, sweeties.”
Therese stared out the window again. As she looked directly below, her heart sank when she recognized the crowd that assembled as the press. Therese bent and held Bobbi and she hugged her back.
“I’ve got to get your sisters to their rooms,” Amanda said.
“Are they exactly like this?” Devon asked.
“Yes,” she answered Devon. “Your dinners will be here in a few minutes,” she told Therese and Bobbi. “You can have your first meal in-house. I know you must be starving after waiting so long.”
“What’s for supper?” Therese asked.
“Veal cutlets, pineapple chunks, green beans, and salad,” Amanda answered.
Devon wrinkled her nose. “Yuck.”
“And chocolate cake,” Amanda added.
“Yum,” Therese said. “I think I’ll take a shower after supper and go to bed. I’m exhausted.”
Devon chuckled. “Goodbye, roach pit.”
<^^>
Staring at the wall, Stacey sat at her desk. She’d gotten tired of looking out the window. The clean quarters were supposed to comfort her but, already, she missed her children. Being separated from them after they’d been practically joined at the hip in the dungeon chipped away at her sanity, already a worn-out thread.
<^^>
Therese sighed.
After Amanda had shown Devon, Kyra, Sam, and Louisa their room
s, they all crammed into Therese’s room anyway. The triplets were getting restless.
Why do I feel like I’m Mom all of the sudden?
Devon smiled, walked over, and jumped onto the bed, the springs creaking under her. Therese joined her. Sam ran over and hopped on the other bed.
“You know what?” Amanda said. “I’m feeling generous. I think I’ll let your mom join you for an in-house dinner.”
The children raised their hands in the air and whooped for joy.
<^^>
Stacey had screamed with relief inside that she got to have an in-house supper with her kids this first night. The thought of the cafeteria and all those crazies scared her.
Amanda, accompanied by Wesley—such a strapping young lad—walked Stacey into Therese’s room, and the kids rushed to her like a whirlwind and hugged her. Many tears were shed. The teen and tween patrol went back to treating the beds like trampolines.
“Kids, don’t jump on the beds, okay?” Stacey ordered.
A knock came to the door.
“Who’s there?” Wesley asked.
“Dinner,” a woman’s voice answered.
He opened the door and a couple of nurses pushed a multitude of trays on steel carts in.
Therese and Devon bounded off their beds to check out the food.
“I’m starving,” Therese said.
“Yeah,” Devon answered. “No kidding.”
The orderlies lugged another table in and scooted two tables together. The nurses put trays with plastic cups bearing lids down. The food smelled delicious.
“Bon appetit,” Amanda said.
“Are you kidding?” Stacey asked.
Amanda chuckled.
Devon tore the lid off her cup, smelled it, and looked up. “Kool Aid!”
“I’m going to let you eat.” Amanda headed to the door. “The nurses will be knocking after the trays in a half hour, then I’ll return to take you back to your room, Stacey. You can all get some sleep or take a shower, whatever. I’ll be in tomorrow to let you know the routine.”
Therese said, “I was starting to feel like I was you, Mom.”
“Huh?” Stacey asked.
What is she talking about?
“With you gone.”
“Oh.”
A nurse handed Therese and the rest of the kids a leaflet.
“What’s this?” Therese asked, unfolding it.
“It’s the menu,” the husky, Hispanic woman with long black hair answered.
You can pick your meals for tomorrow,” Stacey said. “I get to pick mine, too. It’ll be nice not to have to cook.”
Devon looked up, the only one who hadn’t started eating besides Stacey. “I wish we could’ve picked something else but this.”
The door shut. Stacey snapped her head toward the door. Everyone but her family was gone.
“Oh!” Stacey smacked her head. “We should say grace!”
Therese looked up, chewing a mouthful.
“God is great, god is good, thank you god for this food,” Stacey prayed, not sure how to do it. “Amen.” She giggled.
“Short and sweet, I like that,” Devon remarked with a smirk.
Therese and Sam laughed.
“Well, I’m starving.” Stacey tore the plastic off the tray, grabbed her plastic fork and spoon, and dug in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
In jail, Dick eventually had to take a shower. While Stacey and the girls slept at the hospital, he trudged toward the stalls, listening to the booming conversation from the populace.
He wondered what would happen to the apartments he owned. As a realtor, he could be replaced, like that bitch Stacey had said.
Who’ll lord over my tenants?
Dick thought of what the cop had said about how it was his turn to be raped.
No, not in jail. That’s prison and I’ll beat the rap.
Dick trudged up to the shower nozzle while a beefy African-American guy with very short hair sized him up, as well as a thin, Hispanic man with a shaven head.
“Hey whitey,” the beefy guy said.
Fear pricked Dick like a needle. He shot him a quick glance, then lathered up.
A hand on Dick’s shoulder made him turn to see the Hispanic man checking out his privates.
Dick scowled. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m taking a shower?”
The thin man furrowed his brow as he stepped toward him. “What are ya in for?”
The beefy guy joined him. “Yeah, what did you do?”
Dick shook so much he dropped the soap. “L-Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Ooh!” the thin man cried. “He dropped the soap!” He looked down at the soap, then back at Dick. “Pick it up, man.”
A couple of Aryan skinheads joined them.
“Guard!” Dick said.
The guard, a Native-American man with a stocky build, pointed Dick out. “He put his daughter in a dungeon and raped her.”
The beefy man got in his face. “Shit, that was you?”
Oh no, I’m fucked. God, get me out of this!
The thin man spit in his face. “Motherfuckin monster!”
Denial took him. Surely this couldn’t have just happened.
The Hispanic man slapped him upside his head. “Hey bitch, we’re talkin to you.”
So this is how it is, huh? Then I’ll fight like a dog.
Dick got in a fighting stance, clenching his hands into fists. “So what if I raped her? Can you assholes blame me? It’s only because you wouldn’t have the guts to rape your daughters. Besides, I waited till she was eighteen. You ain’t nothin but criminals yourselves.”
One of the skinheads, missing teeth but not muscles, pissed on Dick’s gut. “No, but we got the guts to rape you.”
“We hate kiddy rapists in here, S.A.,” the Hispanic added.
Dick wrinkled his nose in the first seconds of the attack, smelling and feeling the bitter, warm stream soak his dick and balls. He growled from the horror of it all. “All right you cocksuckers, you fucking asked for it!”
He rushed them, throwing all the weight he could behind his punches, which were quickly blocked.
The gang of rogues stormed Dick, shoving him into the wall. Fingers corn-holed him as they turned him around.
Dick screamed as the first invasion began. He squirmed, the man’s penis hitting and missing, then finding its target. “Oh, you motherfucking faggots! Ow! Goddamn it! Ow! You Sodomite… queers… are going to hell!”
Someone grabbed his hair and shoved his face into the wall a few times until he saw stars. When they took him, the most unbearable desolation came over him, making Dick feel like the skankiest piece of trashy meat on the planet. He’d always lived to be straight, a hard man that got all the pussy he could conquer. Not now. Now he was the pussy, the conquered, the raped, and the prisoner. The pain racked his anus like a sword. He knew he’d bleed. It was as if someone shoved a stake in there. Then he knew the pain Stacey had suffered, that he’d inflicted on her against her will.
Dick shrieked. All he could think was this is how Stacey felt.
While he screamed and yelled obscenities—never showing he was weak, but thinking he might try to kill himself later—if for a brief moment, he felt sorry he’d taken that virtue from her. He thought of the countless lessons the pastor had taught at the Baptist church, and he felt compassion for his foster daughter instead of lust. He considered becoming a better person, perhaps burying his sick desires to become the true man of god Dick knew he should’ve been all along. The perversion he’d allowed, from the moment he’d looked at his foster daughter in the wrong way when she’d come of age, then kidnapped her, had a stranglehold on him. Perhaps this was the rock bottom he needed to hit to become a better man before he died and went to hell.
But, as a fist took him to the floor after it finally ended, his ass cheeks soaked with jism and his asshole feeling as if someone had dug a grave in it and buried a corpse, he again became a captive of the worst s
in, anger. Water splashed in his mouth while they laughed at him.
How dare they do that to me, a powerful, rich man? I probably built their houses.
And though he wanted to become a better person—only because he’d been caught—he found he just didn’t care.
<^^>
Kevin Browning lit his pipe as he watched his two children. Carrie, nine years old, and Dirk, ten, chased each other around the living room.
He frowned, dropping the newspaper into his lap. “Kids, no running in the house!”
They stopped, looked at Dad, then at each other.
Carrie, a golden-haired, too-thin wisp of a child who wore glasses, grabbed Dirk’s doughy arm. “Let’s go outside and play.”
Dirk threw his brown bangs out of his face and wobbled after her.
He needs a haircut.
Kevin looked over his bifocals, which had slid down his nose, as his wife Darlene—a redheaded well-endowed woman—leaned out of the kitchen door. “Kids, don’t leave the yard. I’ve got breakfast in half an hour.”
Kevin frowned at his offspring. “Why don’t you two watch cartoons like normal kids?”
Carrie smirked. “We found red ants.”
Dirk chuckled. “Yeah, an anthill by the old tree.”
Kevin said, “You heard your mother. Don’t go too far. There are perverts out there.”
The two children hurried out the door as if fascinated by this epiphany.
Darlene looked Kevin over. “Look at you, reading the paper in your robe. You’ve got more grays. You got old.”
Kevin sighed. “Don’t remind me.”
“Want some juice?”
He slid the glasses back up to his eyes while surveying her. “Is it fresh-squeezed? From the juicer?”
“You bet.”
“Organic?”
Darlene nodded. “You can damn well bet that pipe isn’t organic.”
Yeah, yeah, go back in the kitchen, woman.
He set the pipe in the crystal ash tray. “I know. I need to quit.” He turned to face her. “You’re going to burn breakfast, you know.”
Darlene slapped her forehead. “Oh my!” She ran back into the kitchen.
Damn nag. Why couldn’t I have married my high school sweetheart like all my other friends?
Kevin flicked on his widescreen TV. He groaned, feeling all of his thirty-five years as he forced himself up—his knees popping in protest—and slid the purple curtains away from each other to make sure the kids hadn’t strayed too far. Sure enough, they sat under the tree, watching the weird insects.