by Kimball Lee
“Well we’re set, come on darlin’, let’s paint this town red, purple and a whole bunch of other colors!” Sally pulled Charlotte up and hugged her to her frail body and buried her face in her daughter’s silky hair. “I love you more than anything my sweet baby, you’ve been worth everything to me and don’t you forget it.”
Charlotte let her mother hold her for a while, she wanted to cry and she wanted to scream, ‘don’t leave me, I love you and I can’t live without you’ but she didn’t. She moved her hands lightly to her mother’s back and gave her a small hug, it made her even sadder to feel the bones outlined just beneath the skin and to feel her mother’s lungs working hard to take in air.
“Mom, let me get the oxygen tank, it might do you some good to breathe deep for a few minutes,” Charlotte said, extracting herself from the hug and pulling the portable oxygen tank and mask out of a suitcase.
“You cute girl! Alright, for ten minutes then we gotta go,” Sally smiled at the ‘oh so grown up’ look on her daughters face. Charlotte had turned thirteen in May and she’d been slow to develop physically. She’d only just started her period in March and now she was changing daily from a gangly tomboy with skinned knees and stringy hair into a lovely girl with an undeniably female body.
“There, all better now,” Sally said, after holding the oxygen mask to her face for a full twenty minutes. “Now, hair and nails, then your first pair of high heels, a couture dress and a big ol’ ‘blow their skirts up’ hat from Fleur de Paris on Royal Street. Then we’re going for dinner at Galatoire’s to show off our exquisite beauty and to be seen by all the people who think the world revolves around this city full of sinners and hypocrites.”
Sally intended to drive all the way to Texas that summer, but there was so much to see and do in New Orleans. She’d gone to boarding school there as a girl and she wanted to show all the quirky sights to Charlotte. The city had changed in the years since she’d last been there, but in many ways it was just the same. She introduced Charlotte to special places that had stayed in her memory, beginning with the grand old houses of the Garden District and the fabled streetcars. They rode the streetcars all over town and jumped off and walked to out of the way markets and cafes for gumbo and po’ boys, boudin, bread pudding and ettouffee. They went on a ghost tour of the Crescent City’s most haunted buildings and houses and cemeteries and they laughed and squealed as chills ran up their spines.
They prowled among the strange and wondrous shops of the French Quarter and then talked to the artists and fortune tellers peddling their gifts in Jackson Square. It was near a statue in the square that an old woman who claimed to be a Voodoo Priestess wouldn’t look Sally in the eye, but for ten dollars she studied Charlotte’s palm murmuring to herself. Then she smiled a wide, toothless smile and chanted over and over, “lucky girl, lucky, lucky girl!”
At last they peered through the iron gates of Sacred Heart, the boarding school were Sally spent most of her early years, then they sat down to bowls of café au lait and plates of beignets at Café du Monde.
“We’re Catholic?” Charlotte asked, her mouth, fingers and shirt were covered with powdered sugar from the warm doughnuts. “I thought we were Methodist.”
“We’re Christian’s is what we are, darlin’, I don’t think God holds it against us what church we belong to or how often we step inside of one. I think he wants us to have faith in him and be as kind to others as we possibly can be, and I believe we each have our time to live and to die. Charlotte, it might not always seem like it, but God hears and answers our prayers.” Sally drank several cups of the strong coffee, the hot liquid made it a little easier for her lungs to expand and contract.
“I lived at Sacred Heart,” she said, “except for holidays and summers from the time I was five years old until the eleventh grade when I left to have you. The nuns there were strict and I missed my family, especially my older brother, but things changed and then I was pregnant. You don’t need to hear all that history darlin’, but you’re going to hear my mother say crazy things when you’re living under her roof without me there to set things straight. No, don’t look away, Charlotte. I’m just going to tell you this one thing because my mother lost her mind from it and I don’t want you scared half to death if she gets to ranting and raving. My brother Brendan died when he was barely older than you are now, he met some older kids on the beach right outside our house one night and he took some drugs that accidentally killed him. They were pills laced with some kind of poison, I’m not sure what it was, my parents didn’t speak much after he died. I was twelve and Brendan was fourteen when it happened, and other than Daddy stopping by Sacred Heart to see me once in a while, I pretty much lived at school from then on.”
“Mom, I saw framed certificates on the walls of Grandmother’s house, they all said ‘Rose McCall’ did you name me after your mother, even though you hate her?” Charlotte asked.
“Hate’s a strong and terrible word, and I probably shouldn’t have used it. Love, on the other hand, is a strange and powerful thing Charlotte Rose, and family is family no matter what.”
Charlotte would always remember the trip to New Orleans with her mother as one of the best times of her life, the memories kept her afloat in the years she spent in foster care. She only saw her grandmother once more when Sally was laid to rest five months later in the family crypt in Pass Christian. Charlotte waited in the limousine Louisa had sent for her and her things, she didn’t want to hear the priest drone on and on about her mother’s short, sad life. She watched the handful of people gathered at the graveside service, a man stood off to the side, he watched as the crypt was closed and Charlotte turned to look out the back window as the limo drove away. She saw him place a single red rose on the ground in front of the crypt.
“Who is that?” she asked, and her grandmother and Louisa turned to look, “The bastard,” her grandmother whispered, “that man, oh that crooked politician, that Tremont bastard!”
Charlotte put on her earphones and listened to her Discman as they drove away from the cemetery. She played ‘Black’ by Pearl Jam and she wept as Eddie Vedder’s genius voice growled “and now my bitter hands chafe beneath the clouds of what was everything, oh the pictures have been turned to black, tattooed everything.”
Her grandmother was only sixty five years old, but she died in her sleep that night and Charlotte was returned to Greenleaf within the week and left with the Department of Human Services. Her grandmother’s will bequeathed every dime she had and everything she owned to build the Brendan McCall Memorial Center at the Gulf Coast Hospital.
CHAPTER TWO
“Guess who’s having sex with a Viking God tonight? I am, me, I’m gonna do disturbingly nasty things with Jorgen Christiansen! Have you seen his pictures, Charlotte? I’m talking seriously hot and freaking famous, too!” Natalie said as she stood naked in front of the full length mirror in the dorm room they shared. “My tits are my best feature, don’t you think? I mean they’re small but perky from all the swimming I have to do, but my ass is gonna get wide when I’m old, I can see that coming a mile away.”
“Put some clothes on please, anyone could walk through the door,” Charlotte said, she was already in her cheerleading uniform and pulling her hair into a high ponytail. “I’m serious Natalie, get dressed now or I’m going to the game without you. I can’t afford any demerits especially at the first game of the season, you’ve got the swim team to fall back on but cheering is all I have and I need this degree to get accepted at a decent law school.”
“Fine, fuck! Do you ever have any fun, like a social life or anything other than studying? You’re only young once, I swear I almost believe you’re still a virgin. Oh shit, you are! I can tell by the look on your face, that’s disgusting Charlotte, you’re twenty one years old and you’re such a little princess! We are not living in the fucking dark ages, come with me after the game, you are getting some tonight from one of those sweaty linebackers whether you like it or not!”
/> Natalie Jones had been Charlotte’s roommate at Ole Miss since day one; she was from a middle class family in Bay St. Louis, a small coastal town just a few miles from Pass Christian. She was shorter than Charlotte and her figure was more rounded, she was a pretty strawberry blonde, but she bleached her hair a garish platinum color in their bathroom sink. It made her appear older and harsh and matched the mean streak that appeared when least expected. It was a mean streak she loved to turn on anyone for no reason at all, but she especially enjoyed subtly torturing Charlotte.
At the game that night all the Ole Miss cheerleaders were distracted by the New Orleans Saints quarterback sitting on the sidelines. He’d come to Mississippi to watch an old friend play football and he seemed not to notice the girls parading in his line of sight. He’d spotted the pale skinned, black haired beauty with huge sapphire eyes the minute she walked out on the turf and he was smitten.
Charlotte could feel Jorgen Christiansen’s eyes on her and the dark looks the other cheerleaders were shooting in her direction. She fought to keep from looking at Jorgen although she could tell he wanted her to. She thought he was the most perfectly beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life, like a prince in a fairytale or a movie star. Something stirred in her that she’d never felt before, like a zing down low in her belly and even lower. She blushed at the thought and heard laughter, when she raised her eyes a little and peeked through her thick black lashes, Jorgen was smiling at her.
“Hey goody two shoes, when I said you were gonna fuck some guy tonight I definitely didn’t mean him! So get over your little pink cheeked ‘I’m so innocent’ routine and forget about Jorgen. I’ll be blowing his mind while I’m blowing his dick as soon as this bullshit game is over. Got it? He’s off limits Charlotte, the end,” Natalie said and went back to doing kicks and flips that caused her tiny skirt to fly up and left little to anyone’s imagination.
He was waiting for her when she left the girls locker room after the game, he leaned against the wall, tall and blonde and so sexy she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. He stood up as she drew near and looked down at her with the clearest crystal blue eyes she’d ever seen and once again the fountain erupted deep within her. He took her by the hand without saying a word and led her to his car and she went willingly. Natalie stood by the corner of the building and watched Jorgen help Charlotte into his car. He was so tender with her and he looked like he was caught in that blue eyed spell of hers. Natalie took a long drag on her cigarette then crushed it under her shoe, fucking virgin bitch, she made Natalie sick to her stomach, the little princess needed to be taught a lesson.
“What’s your name?” he asked, as they drove around Oxford and pulled in to a Sonic drive-in. “Some nice first date, huh?”
“Charlotte McCall,” she said, “this is fine, I’m not really hungry and I might as well tell you I’m not any good at dating either.”
“That can’t be true with all the guys you must go out with,” he said, and he ordered hamburgers, fries and cokes for both of them.
“No, not at all, I don’t have time to date, I’m here on an athletic scholarship and I’m taking the LSATs to get into law school, so with studying and cheering it doesn’t leave much time for anything else,” she said, still finding it difficult to look him in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time.
“Ah, a barracuda lawyer, huh? Talk about beauty and the beast, you’ll be both!” he said and laughed, Charlotte thought the sound was nearly as beautiful as he was.
He began to talk and she was happy to sit and listen and steal glances at his glorious profile. He was from upstate Pennsylvania he told her, but he was born in Denmark and lived there until he was fifteen. His mother divorced his father and moved with Jorgen, her only child, to New York City. She’d tried to get parts as an actress but her career had never taken off. She worked as a model and had been on several magazine covers, on a photo shoot in Pennsylvania she’d met and married a nice Quaker farmer and she and Jorgen moved to the country.
Charlotte was mesmerized as she listened to him talk; he spoke with a distinct Danish accent and his hair was the palest blonde and hung nearly to his broad shoulders. His neck was thick and the silky hair falling against it made her understand the word erotic for the first time in her life. His hands were large and long fingered, perfect for throwing a football, but she imagined them on her body and she had to turn her face away from him. She felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling her toward him; he ran his fingers along the planes of her face and his free hand held her against his chest.
When he kissed her she felt a fire ignite deep inside that she was afraid could never be quenched. His hands moved over her body, lightly brushing her back and neck and thighs. She wanted to scream for him to lead her into the night and put his hands under her bra and inside her panties which were suddenly wet and clinging to her sensitive skin. She clung to him and her breathing was loud and ragged, her own hands roaming his tightly muscled back and chest.
“You’ve never done this before, have you my little beauty? You’ve never had a man, you’re trembling and flushed, will you come with me? I won’t spoil you, but I want to see all of your beauty and you can learn my body, too. I’m going to marry you, little Charlotte, and I want you to remain a virgin until I do,” he said, and she couldn’t speak, she simply nodded her head and let him take her with him.
She went joyously and in his room he’d taken off the top of her cheerleading uniform and her bra. He knelt before her to remove her shoes and his lips moved lightly from one pink nipple to the other. It made her dizzy as pleasure hormones shot through her body and she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. He swept her up then and laid her gently on the bed, her creamy skin exposed to him, she wore only her tiny cheerleading skirt.
“Let me look at you, little Chari, so innocent and pure,” he said as he stood beside the bed and tugged his shirt off over his head, his mane of blonde hair shone against his sun bronzed skin and her heartbeat quickened. “You were made for a man like me, do you know that? I’ll take my time with you and teach you slowly how to love, you want to learn, don’t you?” he asked as he stepped out of his jeans and adjusted his erection but didn’t remove his boxer briefs.
“Yes!” she whispered, in awe at the sight of him nearly naked, he was almost six feet five and his body was long and athletic. He honestly looked like a Viking warrior, with flowing hair and an angular face, his body was all sinewy muscles. He seemed ready to conquer new worlds, starting with her.
That night Charlotte had her first orgasm and she thought she would die from the powerful release. Jorgen lay behind her on his side, his cock pressed against her firm little ass, the fabric of her skirt and his underwear between them. One of his big hands stroked and pinched her nipples as he kissed her neck and whispered words of love in her ear. His other hand held hers and pressed her small fingers to her pussy and he showed her how to pleasure her body, teasing her swollen clit until she cried out and spasms shook her. He calmed her, then repeated the act, guiding her hand with his own until she’d had five orgasms and lay limp and sore and turned to curl against his chest. He held her tightly to him, tilting her face up to his and kissing her sweet mouth. His free hand slipped inside his underwear and worked his cock and he came quickly, groaning as he did.
“I want you to fly to Los Angeles with me for a photo shoot; it’s the cover of American Jock Magazine. They’re paying an outlandish amount so the world can see my ass!” he told her when they’d spent three weeks in the hotel room. They’d juggled their time together to keep up practice schedules, the Saints making the team jet available to fly their star quarterback back and forth from New Orleans to Oxford. Charlotte managed to pay attention in class and stay focused and energetic at cheerleading practice, but just barely.
She imagined Jorgen’s hot mouth and incredibly long, hard body. She loved his hands on her skin and the feel of his cock in her hand.
“From the poster girl for
virtue to trashy whore in less than a week princess, you must be proud,” Natalie said as Charlotte packed her bag to go with Jorgen to L.A. for the weekend.
“Natalie, why are you being so vicious? It’s not like I picked him, he asked me out and it just sort of flamed out of control. We’re really getting serious; this is not just a passing thing.”
“No? Well, I don’t know if you’re an acceptable representative of the student body any longer, in fact I think you might just lose your precious scholarship for conduct unbecoming of an athlete,” Natalie’s eyes shot flames at Charlotte, and she stood with her arms crossed, seething as she watched Charlotte pack.
“Are you serious? I mean, excuse me, but we’ve lived in the same room going on four years and you just love to try and shock me with the gory details of your ‘love life’. You haven’t made a secret of the fact that there isn’t a dick on this campus that hasn’t been in your filthy mouth and you dare to threaten me? Back off, Natalie, I thought we were friends, but let me fill you in, you do not want to push me into a corner because I can promise you, I don’t believe in losing a fight or an argument, ever. And you better know this, I might be nice and you might think I’m naive, but don’t mistake my niceness for stupidity.” Charlotte stood face to face with her roommate and she saw a mixture of surprise and fear and hatred boiling in Natalie’s eyes.