Black Bayou

by Beverly Sims

  Wish I coulda got my hands on that other blonde, the one Mac laid claim to. With him around all the time, no chance to get to her. Oh well, but now I got all the ransom money and the women. A hurricane is the perfect time to do ransom pickups ... too few lawmen and too much stuff going on.

  If I decide to do that Eartha gal next, there be no money. Besides, I like women with curves and titties, not beanpoles. Hell, the location here is great for my ‘hobby,’ and I have enough money to live my life forever. Probably should be a good guy and give a bigger cut to my partners, but hell, I ain't never been a good guy, so why start now?

  Good thing those Woodwards are so dumb, not even knowing about where I took the women. And believing that when we got money from all three of them, I would turn them loose ... that I am hiding them away for now in a shack way out in the bayou, locked up tight. No killing, they say—no killing, I say, too. Laugh is on them.

  No one will feel sorry for me, but the truth of it is that none of this is my fault. I grew up like any other kid, looking for boobs to pinch, skirts to look under ... all the stuff boys do. All that changed when I was done with my Navy Seal training and waiting in Southern California for my first assignment. I met a cute little Mexican girl in a bar, and one thing led to another and we went to a hotel. She told me she liked to be hurt while screwing and that most guys don't want to do that. She promised it would be free if I satisfied her. It started out like any other roll in the hay, but when she started asking for things like having her nipples bit until they bled and spanking hard enough to break her skin, I started getting as excited as she was. What a lot more fun than a straight fuck. She wanted to be tied up and forced to perform oral on me, so we did that. She liked everything I did until I started choking her with my cock. It was huge and got bigger the more she choked. I held her nose closed and shoved so far down her throat she started twisting and trying to scream until I came. What a rush. Best in the world. I let her breathe again but shoved her panties in her mouth to keep her quiet. Pulled my penknife to threaten her, but when her face contorted with fear, my cock hardened again, so I started using it on her. Wow, awesome night. After than, no sex for me unless the girl could not get away. I liked to hurt them and still do. The more they hurt, the better for me. But, in the end, if she had not asked for the pain in the first place, I would never have known what inflicting it could do for me. So it was her fault, not mine.

  Now things have gotten too close to home, so no more local gals. No problem finding pretty ladies in Baton Rouge, New Orleans, or Biloxi, and that's not too far to bring back here. Just have to be more careful about getting rid of them later. Gators are just not doing a fast enough job lately. Maybe just take what is left of one to the place I get the next one. Hell, that will drive the cops crazy.

  Yeah, Biloxi ... all those fancy women gambling. Big tits, fancy dresses showing what they got. Oooeee, just thinking about them is enough to stiffen the old ramrod.

  * * * *

  Mac stashed most of the guns in Florie's old pump house. He wrapped them in a blanket from the back seat of the Jeep, a tattered moth-eaten thing that would fit right in if anyone bothered to look inside the tumbling old building. He turned the vehicle toward the Woodward Plantation, which was the direction the tire marks had led originally.

  He parked out of sight from the house and walked through the brush until he was close enough to see there was no sign of activity. Still quietly, he moved to the building and peered into the broken windows. The dust in front of the doors and up the stairs had been disturbed, letting him know someone had been there recently. He moved to the porch and through the unlocked door. In the kitchen, he found groceries, liquor bottles, candles and lanterns, and sleeping bags and pillows on the floor. The door to the cellar was locked, but before he had a chance to break it open, he heard a vehicle coming toward the place. He ducked out the back door and waited in the overgrown garden, hunched down among the fallen trees.

  There were two men in the old van. Somehow, they seemed vaguely familiar as he studied them. They unloaded sacks of groceries and cases of beer. After they went inside, he returned to his stolen Jeep and drove to the old house, making sure they knew he had arrived. He even honked the horn, but he was not prepared to see the guns in their hands.

  He turned off the Jeep and stepped out, hands up slightly. “Hey, I mean no harm. Just came out to check out the place for Glenda. She is the owner.” The guns went back into their belts, and they stepped forward, each with his hand out.

  "No need to worry, we are her kids. I am Josh. This here is Jeb. And you are Mac. Yup, look, Jebbie. You are too young to remember him but this here is our cousin Mac Atwater. Pretty sharp, ain't I, remembering you, ‘cause I was a youngun when we left. You was always nice to me, played games with me, and never seemed to mind my following you around all the time. You was my idol back then.” He had been shaking Mac's hand the whole time and finally dropped it and stepped back.

  Mac shook hands with Jeb, who asked, “And how is our old ma? Saw her in Cotton, but ain't seen her since. She done promised to come on out and visit, but guess she's too busy at the big house to bother with us.” There was sarcasm and bitterness in his voice. He appeared to be waiting for Mac to defend her, but he didn't answer Jeb at all.

  Instead, he asked, “Why the guns? What you guys doing here, anyway? Not much of a place, probably full of snakes and other critters."

  Josh answered. “After Daddy drank himself to death, Daniel ... remember him? He was Daddy's son from his first wife. He and that black girl took care of us. When we growed up, she went off on her own. Daniel started drinking, too, so we decided to come south and find our mamma. But she was not excited to see us at all. Think she wished we would just disappear. Had no money, no place to stay, so we came here. Not too bad. We've done some fixing up and plan to do more once we find jobs. Say, you got any work for us?"

  "No, sorry. Now, back to the guns."

  "Not that it's any of your business, Mr. Atwater,” Jeb's voice was tight and rude, “but as you said, snakes and critters, both two and four-legged. Had some folks come up here during the big winds, but we scared them off. Ain't their land, it's ours, and we need to protect it. Ain't that right, Mr. Atwater?"

  "Sure are, and please call me Mac. We are neighbors as well as cousins, so no need for formalities. Say, since we are neighbors and cousins, can I ask a favor? I had a bit of a falling out with my old grandma ... do you remember her?” He did not wait for a reply, but noted Josh nodded.

  "She is a cantankerous ol’ thing sometimes, and right now she is mad as hell at me. Happens every time she listens to James. Do you remember James?"

  Josh nodded again. “He was a mean son of a bitch. Hurt us a little every time he had a chance, and all Mamma said was to stay away from him. Hell, she didn't have to tell us that. Seems the only one who stuck up for us was our big sister. She always took good care of us, as good as she could."

  "Yes, he is a mean one, even now, but Granny likes him best, says he looks like his daddy and his grandpa. When she listens to him, she does what he suggests, and that includes riling her up against me. No big deal ... she always gets over it.” Mac was playing it for all it was worth, trying to build their trust in him. He felt something was not right here—intuition, maybe.

  "What I am trying to say, or ask, is if I can crash here with you two for awhile until the smoke clears at home? When it does, you two boys come home with me for a few days, see your mamma, and get reacquainted with your grandmother. What do you say?"

  Jeb answered a quick “no,” but Josh ignored him and said, “Sounds good. Come on in, cousin. Have a beer and help us rustle up some vittles."

  Jeb seemed upset. “But what about..."

  Josh ignored him and, putting a hand on Mac's shoulder, led him inside. Mac thought, first mission accomplished.

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  Chapter 35

  The two hiding in the cellar could hear most of the conv
ersation through the broken windows that provided the only light they had. Once the three were in the kitchen above, they too moved to the farthest side of the cellar where there was an old dugout door, now covered with the jungle plants that had moved to take over the house. When the men had first arrived, Daniel had broken the plants and cleared the way out from the cellar so they did not have to use the rickety stairs that ran up to the kitchen.

  "Come on, sister girl, we got to get you out of here. Ain't safe for you now that Mac is here."

  "Daniel, why not? For the hundredth time, why are you keeping me here? Not that I'm not glad to see you all, but why hide me? You wouldn't even be here were it not for me. Glenda does not need to know you are my brothers or that I am her daughter."

  "Things have changed, sister girl, since we grabbed you at the house. You sure were scared until you knew it was us. Funny as hell. Now Glenda knows who you are, so to get the money from hiding those other gals until we get the money, we have to make them think you was kidnapped, too. That is why we got you hidden, just in case someone stopped here like Mac did. Understand?"

  "Funny, my ass. There was nothing funny about it. How does Glenda know about me? I sure didn't tell her."

  "Welllllll,” he answered as if thinking ahead and picking his words carefully. “Welllll, ah, Josh kind of let it slip when he went to see her first time. Had to promise her some of the money for those gals we took but scare her a bit, too. Got going with one of his stories ... you know how he is ... and pretty soon he had said too much."

  "Where are we going?"

  "I am taking you someplace else to hide until he leaves."

  As they shouldered their way through the brush, she asked, “Tell me again how much money we got? I like to listen to the sound of money. Lord, are we going to live like kings, and a queen, the rest of our lives."

  "Two and a half million. Over half a million each, enough for a good life."

  She stopped walking and looked at him. “Thought it was going to be more than that. A lot more."

  "What he said was that we lost completely when Mac started doing that one gal and never left her side, so no chance to grab her. Almost had her at the Mudbug, but Glenda came in and took her away. She was a juicy one, nice tits and smelled soooooo good. Good enough to eat."

  "The money, Daniel—why not more?"

  "The Dallas people paid only two million, he told us, even though it was the second day."

  "Why did he release her then, if her parents shorted us?"

  "What should he have done? Killed her?"

  "No, I guess he was right, but damn, that is a lot of money that should have been ours."

  * * * *

  Mac felt hostility from Jeb but true geniality from Josh. They drank beer and ate sandwiches, which seemed to be the extent of their culinary skills. He relayed events that took place during the hurricane, ending with the condition of Ellen.

  Josh seemed to be deep in thought about something and finally asked, “The gal Ellen, sounds to me like you are damn fond of her. Must be hard having her taken back to her parents and in that condition, too."

  "Yes, it sure is. Not fond—I love that girl. She's the only one who didn't disappear from our old place. The two found murdered, well ... their parents had already paid the ransom.” Mac watched them closely and noted that they both looked surprised at his announcement of the murders but quickly cleared their faces with raised bottles of beer.

  "So there's little hope that the girl called Eartha will be found alive, but then again, she had no family we know of, and no one to pay a ransom. “Now, if you guys don't mind, I am pooped. I have a sleeping bag in the Jeep and can curl up there if you like."

  "No, no. Bring it in, pick a room, and use it as you like. But,” Josh laughed, “if you bring a woman here, you had better be quiet, or you will have to share.” He cackled at his own joke, but Mac was not sure it was a joke.

  "Okay, okay, I will try to keep her quiet. But I am known for the ability to make them scream, begging for more, so I might need you two to help me out.” He went to the Jeep, retrieved his sleeping bag, and trudged down the hall into one of the rooms, one with a partial window, hoping that might deter the mosquitoes.

  It was only a few minutes before he heard someone creeping down the hall and opening his door a crack. Jeb returned to the kitchen and whispered, “He looks like he is asleep. Come on, let's go downstairs and get Daniel and sister.” They unlocked the cellar door and, carrying a flashlight, discovered no one there. “Damn, looks like he took her out of here. I think we should return to Black Bayou saying she escaped from the guy who had her. That would account for her absence. She can say he raped her or whatever she wants. Great idea, huh?"

  "Not a bad idea at all, little brother,” agreed Josh. “Then she can keep us posted on what's going on. But we just have to figure out first where they are. Van is still here.... maybe they are in it. I'll go look.” Both men went outside, Josh to the van while Jeb stayed on the porch. “Nobody there. Damn, where do you think they are?"

  Mac had crept down the hall to eavesdrop. “Sister,” he had said. “Sister.” The black girl that was their sister. Eartha, Ellen's friend. Why were they hiding their sister? Did they know about the two murdered girls? Were they protecting her? Why did they need to know what was happening at his grandmother's home? None of it made sense to Mac.

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  Chapter 36

  Daniel took Eartha's hand as the underbrush became heavier. He had to use his machete to cut a path for them that led to the river. Finally, they came to a clearing with a tent. Inside were a couple of sleeping bags. “What is this place? Whose stuff is this, Daniel?"

  "It's my stuff, sister girl. I put it here and come to stay in it when the brothers bickering and grumbling gets too much for me. No place to run and hide under the stairs like when we were kids. Remember how we would snuggle in that dark cubbyhole while everyone looked for us? What fun it was, watching them run around, scurrying like a bunch of mice, trying to find us."

  She smiled at him. “I remember. We did have some fun, didn't we? I am sorry I could not give you more things. It must have been better for you when your own mother was alive. I bet she loved you to pieces."

  "No, not actually. She was ill most of the time. Later I found out she was crazy. I think the old man was happy when she wandered out into the swamp and disappeared. She didn't even notice when you came to live in the house, from the slave quarters, when I was little. The old man told her I needed a companion, and she never questioned why or who or what or anything. He was right about that one thing, sister girl—I was lonely, and you were the only thing in my life I could trust.” He hugged her close. “And still are. We will be rich because of you. But one thing has been making me wonder ... why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Your friends. Why did you come up with this plot to ransom them?"

  "They only pretended to be my friends. Way down inside, they were cold and unforgiving because I was not lily white like they were. Oh, yes, they pretended, but I knew better. Even Windy, who was an Indian, always felt superior to me. I thought a few days of fear waiting for the money to get them released would do them some good. Teach them they were not so special after all, that their money worked against them, and what color they were was not important."

  "Sister girl, do you really believe that? I watched them with you when you first got to Black Bayou and they seemed to genuinely like you and treated you the same as they did each other. I even saw you in the pool with that little blonde, having girl-sex, and she sure seemed to like it."

  "Of course she did. It was to satisfy her and what she wanted from me.” She could not get enough sex, male or female, and I was happy to oblige. I never found a man I wanted, but I did like women, especially little white ones who were putty under my big black hands. She was only one of many. I liked to see their blonde heads between my legs and feel them giving me pleasure. They never realized that it was I
who controlled them, not the other way around. I could make any of them do anything I wanted, and I did. God, just thinking about them makes me wet."

  "I am no woman, sister girl, but I can help, if you like. Here, let me..."

  She pushed him away. “What do you think you are doing? You are my brother, for Christ's sake."

  "Like hell I am. Stepbrother only. No kin. No sin. How do you know you won't like it? Remember how we touched each other under the stairs? Sometimes you would even make little noises. You liked it then. Why not now?"

  "I was a child then and didn't know any better. I was surrounded in the quarters by people having sex all the time, so I thought it was all right. Later, after I came to the house, I learned it was not all right. I never saw your parents do it, or anyone else, until Glenda came. She liked doing it, no matter who or when. She was the one who taught me how women give each other pleasure and told me men would hurt me. I never found out if that was true or not about the men, but I sure did learn to like what women could do."

  She looked at Daniel in the twilight. “If this is what you planned, well, you got that wrong. I'm going back to the house, and you can come or not. No sex, brother, not with sister girl.” She moved into the overgrowth the way they had come with a frustrated Daniel trailing behind.

  They went back into the cellar the way they had left. Daniel went upstairs and opened the door. Both his brothers looked surprised. “We thought you had gone,” began Jeb. “Where did you go, and where is Eartha?"

  "She is fine, downstairs, wanting to come up. We are both hungry. Looks like your guest is asleep, or has he gone?"

  "Asleep, but be quiet. We need to decide what we are going to do, so take a lantern and we will come down there. I'll bring some bread and stuff, too.” Josh spoke as he began to throw groceries back into sacks.