The Third Parent

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The Third Parent Page 11

by Elias Witherow


  But Tommy said nothing, instead pushing me forward toward the foot of the bed. I kept my eyes locked on the floor, face flushed. I had never seen a naked woman before. Not even a picture of one. The brief glance I had stolen confused and bewildered me. A trickle of sweat ran down my spine and I shivered.

  “Look at her,” Tommy said quietly.

  But I didn’t dare.

  Tommy grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked my head up. “Look at her, Jack.”

  Eyes watering, I did as I was told. I wanted to recoil, the alien landscape before me a terror of unknown. I did my best to avert my eyes, but despite myself, they were continually drawn back to the naked form before me.

  “It’s time you became a man,” Tommy whispered, releasing my hair.

  “No, no, no, no…” Mrs. Murphy sobbed, twisting her head, trying to get away.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Please…” I begged one last time.

  “Take. Them. Off.” Not a request, but a command.

  Trembling, I slowly peeled off my shirt, feeling horrifically cold all of the sudden. Tommy took my shirt and pointed to my pants. Lip quivering, I reached down and pulled them off, feeling deeply ashamed and exposed. Tommy took them, as well, now nodding at my underwear. I wrapped my arms around myself praying silently that someone would burst in and stop this.

  “Jack,” Tommy said quietly, “your underwear.”

  Squeezing my eyes closed, tears spilling down my cheeks, I leaned down and pulled my underwear off. I quickly covered myself, a gale of embarrassment blowing through me. I had never been naked in front of a woman before, not even my mom.

  I heard Tommy sigh behind me and then his hands were gently running down my back. “Such a good boy.”

  “Please let me go home,” I wept, turning up to look at him with bloodshot, weary eyes.

  Tommy smiled down at me and ran a hand through my hair. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just a little while longer now. Be brave. Can you do that for me?”

  I cast my eyes to the ground, the carpet a blurry mess.

  “Climb up on the bed,” Tommy said softly, pushing me forward, “go on.”

  I let out a sob as I clumsily collided with the wooden footboard. Hands shaking, I pulled myself up, and then onto the mattress. Now I stood in full view of Mrs. Murphy, her exposed body splayed out before me. Her eyes were closed and her lips shuddered with unheard pleas. I traveled my gaze across her nudity and felt a mixture of terror and disbelief.

  “Lay down on top of her,” Tommy instructed, “like you’re going to take a nap.”

  Mrs. Murphy’s eyes met mine, two watery brown pools of gentle compassion.

  “It’s ok, Jack,” she said, voice cracking. “It’s ok, go ahead. Don’t be afraid.”

  But I stood paralyzed, limbs like stone, hands locked over my crotch. My mind was splintering and breaking apart, pieces floating away into a darkness where I dared not look. The room swam and I felt like I was dreaming.

  Tommy came up behind me and his hands guided me down. Eyes glazed, mouth slightly agape, I allowed myself to be folded on top of Mrs. Murphy. Her skin was much softer than I thought it would be, like a warm silk sheet that contoured to my body.

  “It’s ok, it’s ok, don’t be scared,” she whispered to me, crying, as our bodies met.

  Tommy hovered over us like a winged demon, his voice soft and commanding. “You know what to do. Became the vessel this young man needs to cross that final threshold.”

  Wriggling against the ropes, Mrs. Murphy met my eyes again. I saw terror but also a motherly need to protect the young.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “Just close your eyes Jack and it’ll be over soon. Just think about something else. Think about happy things, about when times were good.”

  Not exactly sure what was going to happen next, I did as I was told and closed my eyes. I felt myself shaking against the body beneath me, the strange horrific reality of my situation collapsing my mind.

  The rest was a blur of nightmarish memory. Tommy’s hands on my hips, movement beneath me, heat, sour air, and then a rush of unexpected pleasure. As soon as the moment passed, I felt a sickness rise in my throat and I shuddered violently. A tingling sensation twisted below my waist and I went ablaze with dizziness.

  “You did so well,” Mrs. Murphy openly cried, her face a mess of tears and shame. “It’s all over now Jack, it’s finished.”

  Tommy had retreated away from the bed and I saw him staring at us, his eyes wide.

  “Amazing,” he whispered, “just…amazing.”

  My stomach buckled suddenly and I leaned over the side of the bed, vomiting onto the floor. The sweat clinging to my skin acted as a lubricant and I slid off Mrs. Murphy, following the trail of vomit before I could catch myself. I splashed into it and bounced my head off the floor, bringing stars.

  I lay there, gasping, reeking, and wished to die.

  Darkness tip-toed closer and I begged to be embraced by it. My mind floated miles above my head and I felt like a stranger in my own body. I don’t know how long I lay there, broken and empty, but at some point, Tommy picked me up.

  I was slung over his shoulder and he began to walk. I bounced like a sack of meat and bones, drool leaking from my lips. My eyes were glazed and I was suddenly clueless as to where I was. My body felt spent and fatigued. My legs hurt. My head ached.

  I was dimly aware of sunlight at some point and realized we had left the Murphy’s house and were walking across the street back to mine. Somewhere in the chaos, I heard my mother screaming. Colors and warmth filtered across my face like shifting rainbows.

  When I became aware again, I was in bed. I groggily looked at the window and saw it was night, a smattering of stars painting the sky with pencil dot beauty. I felt disgusting and worn down like a used eraser. I heard my parents somewhere below me, talking, arguing, and then falling into silence. When had Dad come home? Where was I again? I faded…

  When morning came, my parents were hovering over my bed. Tommy stood in the corner of the room, smiling, eyes shining.

  “He’s different now, isn’t he?” he said. “Can’t you feel it?”

  My parents just held me, silent tears running down their exhausted faces.

  “I think…” Tommy said slowly, “I think I’ve taught him all I can. He’s an incredible boy. One of the best I’ve come across. There are great things in his future if you two continue to raise and nurture him like I have. I’ll stick around until I’m sure things have settled, but Jack is no longer the little boy he once was. The rest is up to him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  We had no idea what he was talking about but nodded just the same. We knew better.

  “Well, then,” Tommy said satisfied, “let the boy rest a little more. He’s earned it.”

  I was already half asleep again as my parents departed the room, casting sorrowful glances over their shoulders. I didn’t understand why they were so sad. Why were they crying for me? Did I look different now?

  It wasn’t until years later that I fully understood what had been done to me. What had been forced on me.

  But something else happened that helped distract me from the pain of my recovery. Something my family couldn’t quite believe.

  You see…four months later, at the turn of the year, Tommy Taffy vanished from our lives.

  There was no grand exit, no violent or fearful farewell. He was just…gone. We woke up like any other day, the dread of the grind before us…but Tommy was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared into the night. We didn’t know why, didn’t trust the hope it gave us. Tommy was a malicious monster and we had grown accustomed to his games and treachery. Why would he just leave us? Was it because he felt his job was done? Or was it because he had grown bored with us? Where did he go and would he come back? What had been the purpose of our five year torment? Why had we been forced to suffer for so long? Had it just been a game to him?

  A full year passed be
fore my broken family allowed hope back into our lives. At any moment, we fully expected Tommy to come knocking at our door, that horrific smile on his face…but he never did. Time marched on and we slowly began to heal the parts of us we still possessed. I wouldn’t say we were ever happy again…but we were adapting to the absence of our captor.

  But never fully.

  How could we? There was one less member of our family now and her memory burned viciously in my mind.

  Katie…I never stopped mourning for her.

  As for Tommy Taffy and what became of him?

  I prayed I would never have to answer that question.

  But I have to…

  Because he wasn’t finished with me.

  Six-Six-Three-Five-Eight-Rez

  Chapter 6 —2017

  I was drunk. Jesus Christ was I drunk. The bar floor felt like the deck of a ship and I swayed in the rhythm of imaginary waters. I blinked lazily, my eyelids like anchors. I ran a hand across my numb face and my fingers came away covered in drool. I needed to pull myself together. Ah, fuck it. Live a little. It was my birthday after all.

  I raised my hands and pressed my way through the crowds of people, their conversation just white noise hanging above my head. Images blurred together like streaking paint and I burped offensively. Bile tickled the back of my throat and I tasted tequila. That made me want to vomit even harder. Where the hell was the bathroom?

  Someone yelled at me as I pushed them aside, an angry voice in my ear. I just curled my hand into a fist but couldn’t seem to find who had chastised me. I gave up the hunt and continued the trek to the bathroom. I knew I had to be quick; the girl I had been talking to would soon grow impatient in my absence.

  I needed to have sex tonight. I needed it in the worst kind of way. The drinking had made me horny and I felt a lustful stirring beneath the ocean of alcohol sloshing in my gut. I blinked and thought I saw the men’s room. Yes, there it was, that little stick man calling to me through the buzz. I shoved the door open, knocked into someone, felt beer splash at my feet, and then I was standing in front of the urinal. I quickly unbuttoned and emptied my bladder, sighing with almost euphoric relief. Didn’t think I was going to make it.

  As I shook myself, I felt a hand grab my shoulder and spin me around. A face lurched into my vision, a young, angry face. He was shouting at me. Something about spilling his beer. I decided he was much too close and told him so. This just seemed to infuriate him even more and he grabbed my shirt, spittle flying into my face.

  Fuck this guy.

  I headbutted him across the nose and that seemed to shut him up. He cried out, clutching his face, and ironically dropped the last of his beer onto the floor. The other patrons of the bathroom all cheered in drunken exaltation.

  Before he could recover and launch a counter attack, which was sure to come, I grabbed him by the neck and slammed him back against the wall. I heard him cry out once again. I leaned in close, my voice a slurred hiss: “Don’t fucking touch me again, pal.”

  And then I let him go when all the fight was drained out of him. That was good. I didn’t know if I had the motor skills to engage in full-blown combat. As the man slouched to the floor, eyes wide, I giggled. It was a cruel thing to do, the humor stemming from some unseen joke. Or maybe I was just shit faced.

  I left the bathroom and my fans and stumbled back to the bar. The music was loud. My head drummed with the beat, a nauseating electric wash of neon noise and adrenaline. Oh no, I had forgotten to throw up. Too late now. Had to get back to this girl, seal the deal, and then find a place to fuck her.

  I picked the spot at the bar where I thought she had been and wormed my way through the sweaty, loud mass of young people. I suddenly wanted to leave very badly. My face felt flushed and I was beginning to feel seriously sick.

  I found the girl. She was cute in a simple kind of way. Short brown hair, brown eyes, nice figure, and probably a goddamn freak in bed. She saw me and to my relief, she smiled. I felt her hand grasping mine and then her breath was in my ear.

  “Didn’t think you were coming back.”

  I smiled a crooked thing and leaned into her. “I want to get out of here, what do you say?”

  She bit her lip. I wanted to bite her lip. I wanted to sink my teeth into them and tear them off. I squeezed my eyes shut. Focus.

  “Right now? Where do you want to go?” she asked. I knew I had her hooked, I just needed to reel her in, make her feel safe like it would be ok to come home with me. I took a breath to steady my thundering head.

  “Your place or mine. Though my place is just a couple blocks away from here; we could walk. Up to you, whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

  Bravo old sport.

  She looked around, maybe for her friends, and then asked, “Do you have roommates?”

  Oh shit, what was the right answer here? If I told her the truth, if I told her no, then she might feel more isolated. I could tell she was the nervous type. But if I said yes then how would I explain the absence of anyone at my place?

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, “yeah I do. But they’re gone for the weekend.” I patted myself on the back.

  Her eyes seemed to settle and a coy smile crept up her face. “Oh? So we’d be all alone?”

  I spread my arms. “’Fraid so.”

  She smiled openly now and nodded. “Come on then, let’s go.”

  Hell. Yes.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled her toward the exit, toward the world, away from this noise and distraction. If she did have friends here, I didn’t want one of them stopping us. That was the absolute worst and I didn’t think my sex drive could handle that tonight.

  We burst from the bar, a cold autumn breeze stirring the hair from my date’s shoulders. Well…she wasn’t really my date. I suddenly realized I didn’t remember her name. I felt like this was very important and if I couldn’t recall it she would leave immediately.

  But she broke the tension first, the two of us hurrying down the city street.

  “What’s your name again?” she giggled.

  I exhaled. Perfect.

  “Jack,” I said casually, “and what’s yours? I could barely hear anything in there.”

  She giggled, excited, thrilled, alive. “Lucy.”

  Ok, not my favorite name in the world, but it wasn’t like I was going to marry her. Now wouldn’t that be something? I felt like my parents would die of joy if I brought home a girl. The thought of my parents suddenly dampened my drunken good spirit. I hadn’t talked to them in…months. I needed to call them. See how Mom was doing…

  “Hey, you ok?” the girl—Lucy—asked.

  I shoved thoughts of my parents aside and plastered a smile on my face. “Couldn’t be better. Come on, my place is just around the corner.” Our feet echoed off the late night sidewalk, the glow of streetlights casting shadows before us like future versions of ourselves.

  As we passed another crowded bar, the windows full of laughing, dancing, happy people, I turned to Lucy.

  “You know it’s my birthday today?”

  This seemed to delight her. “No way, really? Happy birthday, Jack!” My name sounded alien coming from the lips of a stranger, especially when attached to such a familiar congratulations.

  “Thanks.” I grinned instead.

  “Where are all your friends? Shouldn’t they be out celebrating with you?”

  We stepped around a very drunk man screaming into his phone before I answered, excuses fumbling on my tongue. “Uh, yeah, I guess they should be. They all had to work tonight though so we’re going to celebrate tomorrow night.”

  “Couldn’t wait until then?” Lucy asked with a wink.

  “You only turn twenty-eight once,” I said stupidly. It was true, though, my friends…friend…was working tonight and couldn’t join me.

  Jason. The only one who seemed to stick with me. I smiled into the night. Thank God for Jason. Without him…without him, I didn’t know what my state of my mind would be these da
ys.

  We continued down the street and I pushed thoughts of the past behind me. Lucy was chatting excitedly about something but I wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, I focused on digging my keys out of my pocket as we approached my building. As I unlocked the front door, Lucy asked me a question that I only got the tail end of.

  “Sorry, what was that?” I said, pushing the door open triumphantly.

  “How long have you lived here?” she repeated.

  I shrugged. “I dunno…couple years now.”

  This seemed to satisfy some lingering question and she nodded. I stood in the doorway, one hand outstretched to her.

  “Well, you coming?”

  She giggled and took my hand, and the two of us bound for the top floor where my apartment was. The wooden stairs creaked beneath our feet as we ascended and I imagined it was the cries of my invisible fans, cheering me on.

  Lucy didn’t disappoint. The sex was fantastic. But when you’re drunk and horny, is it ever not? The two of us thrashed about on my bed, sweating, panting, hungrily grasping at one another. I was worried for a second about how much alcohol I had consumed and how that would affect me. Three minutes with Lucy though and I realized that wasn’t going to be a problem. At some point she bit my shoulder so hard it drew blood. No one had done that before and it excited me.

  After a rather wonderful climax, the two of us lay sweat-stained and panting on my bed. The dark apartment around us was still and silent. I didn’t own very many things and in the quiet, I wondered if she had noticed. Of course, she had. Women were always keen on details like that. Especially when entering a stranger’s house.

  Lucy rolled over and placed her head on my bare chest. “Mmm, you wore me out.”

  Her cheek felt hot against my skin. Her hair was a tangle of sweaty tentacles splayed out across my body. I suddenly wanted to push her off me. Now that all lust had been drained, I felt like my social lighthouse had gone out.

  “I think I’m bleeding,” I said distantly.

 

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