by Jean Andrews
My hand found a lake stone, and I grabbed it and hit him in the face. My voice was small and contorted as he choked off my air supply. “You rape me, and so help me God, I won’t rest until I kill you.”
He let up momentarily to check his facial wound. Realizing that I’d drawn blood, he laughed. Something about him found pleasure in pain, even his own pain, and he fought more viciously. The swirling wind blowing through the trees drowned out my cries for help, and for a moment I thought his raping me was the least of it. His rage might make him accidentally kill me.
Then a long, loud whoosh and the crack of wood, and pine needles descended like a blanket on us, followed by a massive tree limb crashing to the ground, hitting his shoulder. He sagged onto me, then rolled off to one side moaning, and I twisted and writhed and escaped. I didn’t know if he got up off the ground and was following me, or if he’d come to his senses, but I ran like I’d never run before in my life and made it to the cabin. Shaking, I fumbled for the key and unlocked the door, then barricaded it and loaded the shotgun. I looked out the window at Marney’s cabin, wondering if I should call her for help, but what could she do but wake Sam up, and what could Sam do but go ask Frank if he’d done what he would deny. Besides if Frank breaks this door down, and I fire this gun, everyone will show up. No calls necessary.
I slept with my shotgun loaded and beside my bed, thinking this is what women have been doing for centuries with men—running from them, hiding themselves and their children, and when all else failed, shooting them. But why was this happening to me now?
I’ve gone from being a woman who was verbally attacked by my ex-husband to being physically attacked by someone else’s. The difference, I thought, is this time I’m forced to fight back.
Chapter Sixteen
I didn’t sleep well until the sun began to rise. So the knock on the door startled me, and I got up disoriented. I took the gun with me and found Levade standing there.
“Let me in,” she demanded, and I held the door open. “Show me where you’re hurt.”
“I don’t really know. I haven’t looked.”
Levade walked me back to the bedroom, lifted my nightshirt, and looked me over, gently touching me, examining the cuts on my arm, and gasping over the bruise on my neck where his hand had clutched my throat.
“It was Frank, wasn’t it?” Her voice was cold, and I nodded. Then I noticed I’d gotten blood on the sheets, and I asked her to give me a minute to clean up. I dashed into the bathroom and showered, and when I stepped out, she took the towel from me and gently patted places on my body that were scraped. Her touch was sensual, and if there had been no Frank, how wonderful this might have ended, with us in bed together, watching the lake, holding one another, and making love. But today I was too hurt, and she was upset and angry.
“How did you know he attacked me?”
“I didn’t sleep. I had a bad feeling. Then this morning, I saw your face…you appeared to me, and I knew.”
“I’m going into town to report him, as soon as I get dressed,” I said, sticking with practicalities and avoiding the topic of how I “appeared” to her.
“You need to go back to New York. Nothing good will happen if you stay here.”
“No. I’m not running away from someone like Frank.”
“He will try to kill you, Taylor. I know this.”
“I know all about Frank. He killed his wife over her lover. Well, he’s not going to kill me. I promise you that.”
My back, hips, and neck were sore, and just the act of pulling on my jeans, a shirt, and some tennis shoes was painful. I ran a brush through my hair, forgetting any makeup.
“I have to go.”
“I’m going with you.” She followed me to the car. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive.”
“I’m okay.”
“Keys.” She held out her hand, and I forked them over.
“You’re demanding,” I said lightly. “Living alone, you’ve learned to take care of yourself. Maybe you should let someone else take care of you on occasion. Just a suggestion.”
She didn’t reply.
It registered that it felt wonderful being in the car with her. Natural, in fact. Like I was home. And what the hell does that mean? I’m a long way from home.
The sheriff’s office was also the police station, and as far as I could tell, it was also the jail and the courthouse, the latter two not in use that anyone could remember, unless it was to let a drunk sober up.
Judd and Robby Pierson were the volunteer-police department Sam had referenced. Judd was in his early-forties and dangerous looking, with facial scars and a strange grimace that never left. It would be hard to tell, if you didn’t already know, which side of the law he was on, and in fact, I wasn’t sure. He sat rocked back in Sam’s chair with his feet up, pretending to be in charge.
Robby, his scraggly-haired brother, wore khaki pants and a khaki shirt, probably because it looked like a fake police-officer’s uniform. He was all duck-strut and partridge chest, and he leaned up against the battered filing cabinet, posing as if he’d been voted Officer January in next year’s police calendar.
As we entered, Levade whispered, “They’re Frank’s hunting and fishing buddies.”
Judd spoke first. “What can we do for you two ladies?”
“Frank Tinnerson attacked me last night out by the lake. He tried to rape me.”
Robby snorted and yanked on his pants, hoisting them higher, as if to say “old wild-man Frank” was always stirring up trouble.
“Did you get raped?” Judd asked.
“I fought him off,” I said.
“So you’re here to report a not-raped? Kinda like a boyfriend fight?”
“I’m here to report an attack, an attempted rape—”
“I don’t know what riled him up,” Robby said, “but I suspect you taught him his lesson, judging by the scratches on your arm there.”
It dawned on me that, unfortunately, these two dumbasses could probably get a job on many a small-town police force, if they ever chose to leave here and stop being cops-for-free.
“She wants to file charges, Robby,” Levade said.
“Any witnesses?” Robby asked, and I shook my head no. “Well, then, for all we know, you coulda done it to her, Levade.”
“You are a dumb-fuck, Robby Pierson!” I’d never heard Levade resort to the kind of language I used regularly.
“Now, Levade, you of all people know Frank is the Teflon man, huh. Don’tcha? And this thing she’s accusing Frank of is kind of like what that Blah-Blah Ford gal accused that fella of…you know, nearly raping her but didn’t hit the target. Nobody seen it happen, so he got to be on the Supreme Court. That bein’ the case, I don’t think anybody would believe you, Levade, or you,” Judd paused as if the word was hard to utter, “ma’am.”
I asked for the forms to fill out that would allow me to file an official complaint. Robby hunted through the nearly empty file cabinet, obviously looking for something he knew didn’t exist, and finally said, “All out of those forms. But I got a piece of paper here in the desk you can write on, and put it all down. And a pencil.” He shoved the pencil toward me.
“You know, Robby, if Frank Tinnerson attacked your mom, or your sister, or a woman you loved, I would hope you would want it investigated,” I said, trying to reason with the unreasonable.
Robby snorted. “Kind of an honor. Frank only likes the pretty ones.”
“You can keep the paper and shove this pencil up your ass,” I said calmly.
“One day Frank will be held accountable, as will you,” Levade said.
“Now don’t go threatening,” Judd warned her.
“You gonna put the witchy-witchy on him, voodoo lady?” Robby giggled.
“Don’t speak to her like that, ever, do you hear me?” I said evenly.
“Whoa, you two datin’…or somethin’?” Robby whistled.
Levade headed right for him, grabbed a hunk of his hair, and whipped his h
ead to one side as if he were an out-of-control horse, and he yelped like he’d been stepped on. Judd jumped up to come to his rescue, and I grabbed Levade and pulled her away, just as Sam walked in the front door. The two men adopted a respectful tone.
“Morning, Sheriff.” Judd stood tall. “These two ladies want to make a report about an attack last night by Frank Tinnerson.” Then Judd excused them both, and they left the office to go do more of nothing, I assumed.
Levade was fuming. “He tried to rape her, Sam.”
Sam shook his head as if this “Frank problem” was never ending. “You want me to go have a talk with him, tell him charges are being brought?”
She looked at me for answers. “You know him better than I do,” I said.
“I do, and I know that he’ll be on the loose while we try to prove he attacked you, and during that time he’ll be even more dangerous,” she said.
“She’s right about that,” Sam interjected.
“So he just gets away again?” I asked.
Sam let all the air out of his body as he contemplated his next move. “I’ll go talk to him to let him know what we suspect, and I’ll try not to get him too upset. He’s not right, you know. The man’s not right in the head.”
Levade was angry. “He already knows we know what he did, because those two little weasel-helpers of yours are his fishing buddies, and right now they’re off telling Frank that we came in here to file a report. And nothing will happen, because nothing in this town ever happens to protect women!” Levade grabbed me by the arm and pulled me outside to the car.
“You have to go back to New York.”
“Well, I’m not going. And don’t try to fight my battles for me. Let me handle this.”
“You don’t even know what you’re fighting,” she said quietly, and stared out the car window. What was going on in her beautiful head, and what would it take to get her to share it with me?
We drove in silence to the cabin and parked under the pines.
“What was so important that you agreed to meet with Frank in Pine City?” I was determined to get an answer.
“To warn him to stay away, for all the good that did.”
“You were gone for days. You could have accomplished that in four hours.”
Levade walked to the cabin with me. “I thought you and I needed a break.”
“Why?”
“Because what’s happening between us, Taylor, has to be serious enough to warrant the danger it puts us in, and I’m not sure you’re that serious.”
I opened the door, and we entered the kitchen. She looked into my eyes and said, “I am so sorry he attacked you.” And she kissed me—a long, tender, sensual kiss that made me moan and buckled my knees.
“I feel I have to go on record that when you kiss me like that, I want to make love with you. But I’ve had a long talk with myself, and I don’t want to make love to someone who wants me one minute and then is indifferent to me the next.” That was what I needed to say, but then I quickly tried to lighten up. “Plus, you’re younger and in better shape than I am, and further, you may be a little bit crazy or involved with people who are.”
“So you’re waiting for someone older, in poor physical condition, and boring? Is that the only thing keeping us apart?” Levade kissed me again. “We will be amazing together,” she promised, and I nearly swooned at the thought of making love to her.
But the voice in my head would not be silent, and taking a deep breath, I summoned the courage to push her gently away. “Levade, you’re involved in some way with Frank, and you won’t tell me what’s going on, despite the fact that he nearly raped me. I want romance with you, but without the drama. And for whatever reason, right now, you are nothing but drama. And you won’t let me in so I can help you. I feel like we’re both in a movie, but I’m not allowed to see the script.”
“Drama can be temporary, but commitment is forever. I want your love forever, Taylor, in good times or bad. I want your love in addition to fabulous sex, not just sex. I’m not going to have another ‘bridge love affair’ to get me from here to the next relationship. The next time will be forever.” She stared deep into my eyes. “For me, you’re all or nothing.” She paused and apparently read my mind, because she added, “And it feels like you might be nothing.”
The final remark was cutting, and I started to hurl words back at her, but I refrained. Part of what she’d said was true. I wasn’t committing to anyone and never had. And so I let Levade, the most amazing person I’d ever known, walk out of the cabin and out of my life, disappearing into the damp woods.
“She must be totally fucking crazy,” I said to no one. “I haven’t even had sex with the woman, and she wants a commitment forever. She wants to be lovers forever, soul mates. We hardly know each other!”
Sass slammed up against my leg and sauntered off to take a nap, obviously agreeing that one of us was crazy.
Chapter Seventeen
Judith stopped by to invite me over for dinner that evening, having heard about the near-rape from Marney, who’d heard about it from someone in town who knew Judd and Robby. Everyone was undoubtedly eager for details, which I thought might have prompted Judith’s spontaneous dinner invitation. Or maybe I was paranoid. Invitations did come late on the lake, and if you were already preparing dinner, then you put it in the fridge, and if you had company, then you brought them along. An opportunity for human contact was not to be passed up in a town with a tiny population.
I put on a pressed pair of designer jeans, a long-sleeved polo shirt tucked in at the waist, and tennis shoes. I looked trim and tidy and cabiny, but I felt oddly underdressed when Judith opened the door to greet me. Her hair was marcelled in rows of plastered black curls that rose and fell in tight waves against her head like a 1920s starlet. She wore an A-line skirt that hadn’t been popular for decades, and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below her elbow. Regardless, she was a law professor, so I was here for an evening of smart conversation, not a fashion show.
Dinner was meatloaf and mashed potatoes and a vegetable medley, which was a term used when there’s not enough of one vegetable to warrant having its own name, so people start throwing in vegetable pieces and calling the thing a medley, as if it’s so damned tasty it might burst into song. I’d never had a delicious vegetable medley, and tonight was no exception.
It quickly became apparent that Judith was looking for lust on the lake. She gave off the vibe of a woman on the hunt—eyes lingering longer than necessary, as if she was thinking something she wasn’t saying, glances in my direction as if she was sharing some joke that hadn’t yet been told. She found excuses to touch me and made it look coincidental to whatever she was doing, and she laughed at everything I said, regardless of whether it was funny or not.
After dinner, she told her mother about the attack I’d endured, and soon they were debating the political state of women, rape laws in various states, and Supreme Court decisions, as my head swung back and forth like the court judge at Wimbledon.
“If Georgia, Alabama, and the rest of the mouth-of-the-South legislators make abortion a crime, and women go to prison for ninety-nine years for ending a pregnancy, then Roe v. Wade is dead, and we’re back to coat-hanger abortions. And that doesn’t even address what happened to Taylor.” She glanced away from her mother to quiz me. “He didn’t penetrate you, did he?”
I was surprised by such a personal question and the look she gave me when she asked it. The possibility seemed to excite her, but maybe it was just the debate.
Judge Robertson said, “Attempted penetration is intent to rape. The fact that he failed in his attempt makes it no less a rape crime.”
“Assault would be the charge,” Judith insisted, and the two of them bantered as if I weren’t there, perhaps energized by having an audience. I was bored and began looking out the window toward the Point when I thought they wouldn’t notice, but I saw no light.
Finally Judith said she could tell they’d worn me
out and insisted on walking me to my cabin in light of my recent attack. I told Judge Robertson what a lovely evening it was, even though it wasn’t, and Judith and I crossed the cabin lawns to my place.
I could have sworn I saw Marney peeking out of her window as we strolled past. With her cabin situated between Judith’s and mine, she had the perfect view and could hide and watch our travels back and forth, as we became her human version of a deer crossing.
“Sorry for cutting the evening short, but Mother leaves tomorrow morning. My brother is picking her up, and she’ll be gone for a week, so she needs her rest. I’ll have the cabin all to myself.”
She stopped as we reached the birch trees, slid her arm around my waist, and suddenly pulled me in to her and kissed me. I was caught off guard, to say the least. The kiss wasn’t precipitated by some signal on my part that I was interested in her, but more on logistics—her soon-to-be empty cabin and my availability. I didn’t give Judith any sexual energy during our brief encounter, but she didn’t seem to need it. She was overheated and behaving as if our chemistry were amazing.
“Tomorrow,” Judith said in a guttural tone and ran her hand between my legs, then turned and left. Judith apparently did have a life beyond the buffet line, and I could end up being dessert.
Is every woman on the lake a lesbian? The water must have something in it besides leeches.
* * *
Despite Judith’s moonlight madness, all I could think about was Levade, standing in the kitchen, kissing me senseless, and telling me she wanted me forever and wanted me to want that too. It was still early in the evening. Maybe, if I went to her cabin, we could sit down, unemotionally, like two adults and just talk about what forever entails. Afterall, forever is a long word. Perhaps if I could have more time with her, ease into whatever she envisioned. Maybe she knows things about our future together that I don’t, and I’m just trying to catch up. I decided to go see her and attempt to renew our relationship. At the very least, I’d like to rewind to that amazing kissing session on her couch.