Woman Scorned Page 26

  The face tilted sideways. The smile pulled back a little wider. “Hello… pig.”

  “I don’t like you!” Elton screamed. It was a childish thing to say, but in his fear it just came right out of him.

  “Good,” the demon lady said. “Because I don’t like you either. The difference is that you’re the one who’s under my control. And that’s a bad thing, Elton. Really, really bad.”

  “Really really?” he blubbered. He was thinking about his own demon. The one that had been with him ever since he was a little boy. It stabbed an alley cat, he remembered. And I liked it. That’s when my demon found me. That’s when it started whispering in my ear.

  The demon lady laughed, and she was so happy when she laughed it made Elton want to scream back instead of laugh with her.

  “Are you going to punish me?” he asked.

  “Ah!” the demon lady said. She held up one finger as if counting off tasks. “We have a winner! You did figure it out, my stupid, ugly man. Yes, Elton dear. Normally I’d be hurting you so much already. Normally I’d be slicing through your ball sack even while you lay there. But you… are special. Do you know why you’re special?”

  “Is it…” Elton was scared to say it, but maybe if he said it the demon lady would let him go. “Is it because I killed my angel?”

  The demon lady blinked. “Killed?” she asked. “You actually killed some poor girl, Elton?” Her eyes narrowed and she leaned in. “I want you to tell me all about it, Elton. And don’t lie. Because I can tell if you lie.”

  Elton believed her. He had learned to tell when his angel lied to him, and that had been because she’d been tied in his basement. He was in the demon lady’s basement now, and he believed she would know if he lied too.

  “I took her from a bar,” he said. “And I brought her to my basement. She didn’t like it and she screamed and screamed the first few days. But I hurt her and she stopped and then I fucked her. I fucked her every day mostly. And I choked her, too. I’m sorry that I liked it when I choked her, but I can’t help it I just like that. And then I choked her too hard th’other day and she died. But that’s not really killing because I didn’t mean for her to die. I only wanted to fuck her some more. She was my angel and I loved her.” He waited, trying to see what the upside-down demon lady’s face was saying. But all he could see in it was anger. “Can you let me go now?”

  The demon lady just stared at him and Elton didn’t like that. Why didn’t she answer him? Maybe she just don’t know the answer, he thought. Maybe she has to let a head demon decide.

  Suddenly her hands were squeezing his throat. She clamped down with her demon hands and squeezed so hard he couldn’t breathe at all. It only hurt a little, but he couldn’t breathe and it scared him. He tried to scream but he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe.

  “You like that, you fucking shithead?!” the demon lady yelled. “You fucking like that?!” She shook his head and it banged on the table. Elton saw black spots bloom and fade all over the room. She banged his head again and she was still squeezing. Black balloons swelled this time.

  She slammed his head one more time then let go. A second later another rock-fist hit him on the ear. He coughed and spluttered, somehow not even feeling the pain that should have been there. He felt his ear grow warm and then felt a swoosh of cool air before-

  He woke from a blackness that was complete and dizzying. He felt like he was going to fall over even though he knew he was still on the table in the demon lady’s basement.

  “You are one lucky son of a bitch,” the demon lady said. “If you were any other man, I would be pushing you into the depths of hell with torture right now, and I wouldn’t give up for days. For weeks, Elton! And I never sleep. Do you hear that? I don’t sleep and I never tire. And I would spend every second of it in revenge for the girl you beat and raped and killed. I… would be her vengeance! I would be your damnation!”

  She grabbed his wounded ear and twisted it fiercely. Fire burned there and Elton screamed. He thought wildly that if she didn’t let go she was going to get her white shirt all dirty with his blood. He knew because he’d done it so many times to his angel.

  “But you had to be Heather’s first. Oh, she sure can pick ‘em. So I can’t hurt you, Elton you slug. But Heather will. In fact, she’s going to kill you. I only woke you to let your mind whirl, to let your fear build. You’re on an island, pig. Monroe’s Island. And it’s going to take all my strength to let you be and walk out that door. But I’m going to do it because the cause is greater than any one woman. I’m going to drug you again and when you wake you’ll be back in your box. But no chains for you, Elton dear. And no food either. Nobody will talk to you or come for you, and you’ll be there for days and days. But the next time that door will open, it will be your last day on Earth.”

  She released his ear and somehow that made the pain even worse.

  “I’m being punished?” he asked again.

  “You’re being punished,” the demon lady confirmed. “And in three days you’re going to have one last chance to hurt a woman. Her name is Heather, and I understand you already lusted after her legs like the fucking rapist scumbag you are. But here’s the thing,” she said. And finally she pulled her face away from his sight and the rest came across the room like some kind of ghostly message from the grave. “Whether she wins or loses, we’re going to kill you anyway. Your time on Earth has come to an end, and your last, infectious breath will be taken from you by a woman.”

  Elton heard the door open and shut, and then the silence of the room enveloped him.

  I’m being punished, he thought. And strangely a calm came over him. My time has come. This is what I deserve. He laughed aloud. It was a harsh bark of a sound, and it was laced with poison. “At last,” he said to the empty room. “My demon will be gone at last!”

  He lay there for over an hour before another woman came in and stuck him in the neck with a needle. But Elton didn’t fight her. He welcomed it.

  His last thought before he blacked out was an image of his angel. Her face was blue and his hands were around her neck and he was still fucking her like he’d always wanted to. If only she’d lived… he thought. And though there was more, Elton never thought of her again.

  8

  “Welcome, everyone,” Doov said. “Before we begin today… I’d just like to remind you…”

  My God, Obe thought, it’s the same sermon every time. Still, when Doov spoke, Obe felt himself being drawn in.

  “…that the Family has many members.” Doov paused. Doov rocked slowly back and forth at his pulpit. Doov passed his eyes around the crowd before going on. “Many brothers,” he said, and Obe twitched at the word. “When the Family loses a man… you… lose a brother.” The stirring crowd nodded almost as one.

  “Back home,” he continued, “they used to have a saying.” He lifted his chin now, stating the next part with an air of feigned wisdom. “They said that in life… there were only two things… you could count on.” Some of the men mumbled to themselves or others, already knowing what came next. “Well here… in the Family of Blue… we no longer… have taxes.”

  The crowd chuckled, somehow able to ignore the hard truth about the other half of the phrase. Doov let silence gather and fill the alley before resuming.

  “But then…,” he said, “there’s death.”

  So blunt, the statement had the power to kill on its own. All the men were immobile.

  “And whenever we see death… it is always the death… of a brother.” Though so quiet they went nearly unheard, the sheep-like murmurs of agreement now began. “A brother,” he said again, and the repetition of the word instigated louder murmurs this time. Throughout the crowd actual words could now be heard.

  “And when your brother is killed… it can and often will…” Doov surveyed his audience and waited. The anticipation, the needing to hear more, seemed to be everywhere. “…hurt,” he concluded.

  “Yes,” one
man up front said, and immediately several others joined him.

  “It will hurt,” Doov shouted now. And as he went on he picked up the pace to match the growing energy of his congregation. “It will hurt because he was one of us! One of the Family! And because he might have been you! Because you might be the next to die!”

  No, Obe thought. That’s wrong. Proper mourning isn’t selfish.

  Yet some of the men did shout a brief approval at Doov’s words.

  “Death is inevitable, my brothers!” he stormed on. “You can’t… escape it! You can’t… run away from it! But… you can accept it when it comes!”

  “Yes!” several men shouted.

  Accept death? Obe thought. Never.

  “And it is important, nay… critical… that the life you lead before that death…” Obe noticed Doov was singling out one man with his eyes. Others saw it too and stole their own secret glances. Obe joined them all and saw it was Leb he was staring down. “… well, that life must be one of loyalty… of honor… of respect.”

  Doov held his gaze for several seconds, just long enough to drive home his point without quite pushing his stare to a full reprimand. It was a masterful touch. When he spoke next it was again to the crowd at large.

  “And when one of your brothers that you do respect has met his death…” Obe could hear the finishing soup of emotions coming now, “well, gentlemen, all you can do is accept that death… and continue trying to live your life… like a man.”

  Doov let the expected shouts and hollers of his satisfied flock burst into the alley. He stood and listened, straight-mouthed, until the noise turned to a buzz and then faded into patient silence. And even then, he only stood and looked, allowing them all their own epiphanies while he took credit.

  Finally, Doov began the true funeral. “Who have we lost, Paist?”

  And Paist, just as he had done the last time and had probably done twice a week for months on end, moved his hands behind his back and swayed as he spoke. His voice was again as dead as the men he spoke of. And, as always, the men in the alley didn’t speak a word until Paist was done or they were called forth as a witness to their death. There wasn’t so much as a tsk of sadness or a gasp of disbelief. There was only that silence and those dead, blank stares.

  “Today, we mourn for three men of the Family of Blue: Jile, a survivor of thirty-nine runs, was last seen alive yesterday morning. He is missing and presumed dead. He was a good man. He will be missed. Roe, a survivor of forty-three runs, was last seen alive yesterday afternoon. A witness, Doov, has come forward to report his death. Doov?”

  “I saw him some time after Jile’s death,” Doov said. “He was visibly upset. When I tried to console him, he ran from me. I gave chase but could not catch him. He committed suicide over the Cliffs of the Moon.”

  “Thank you, Doov,” Paist said. “Roe was a good man. He will be missed. Finally, we have lost Jain, a survivor of 57 runs. He was last seen alive Sunday evening. He is missing and presumed dead He was a good man. He will be missed.”

  Obe looked around. Jain? Jain was dead? Jain was a jerk, sure, but Obe actually knew him. Suddenly he was ashamed for thinking so negatively of the man.

  “We will now open the floor for your comments on the deceased before we leave them forever.”

  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence when Obe thought that somehow nobody had the courage to go first, that nobody had anything to say, and then Rein spoke.

  “Jain always enjoyed a good joke.” Instantly there was an eerie but respectful nodding of heads around him.

  “He helped many of us laugh,” another voice said.

  Obe grimaced. Jain had been nothing like that. But, he reasoned, the man is dead. It would be disrespectful to tell the truth. Still, in life he had lived in the shadows of Roe and Jile. Obe decided to speak about them.

  “Jile and Roe,” he said, and then all he saw were eyes.

  So many eyes on him, watching his face. So many ears, waiting to hear him. Waiting for him to say what they wanted to but couldn’t. Waiting for him to make a fool of himself or to impress them all. All those eyes… he hadn’t been expecting it, and he realized as different eyes slowly bore down on him that he didn’t know what he’d intended to say at all.

  “Jile and Roe,” he said again, hoping something would come. But there was nothing. Just those eyes looking, waiting, eating at him. Finally, hating himself even as he allowed the words to come out of his stupid mouth, Obe simply blurted out, “they were really great. Together I mean. I… liked them. I guess.”

  He felt burned with embarrassment, scalded. And even worse, nobody nodded their agreement. There was only that ugly, awkward silence.

  “Jile never had to borrow anything from anybody,” some man said, to Obe’s great relief.

  “Neither did Roe,” said another. “That’s respectable, sustaining yourself like that.”

  “Jain never borrowed either,” said someone else. “He just traded. He knew how to handle his goods.”

  And, somehow, the funeral ended with those words.

  Silence drew on. And on. Nobody seemed to have anything else to say. Nobody wanted to mention the treasured friendship that was now gone, and so Jile and Roe hung there with a paltry comment about their borrowing habits. They were practically equated to Jain. Obe couldn’t believe what he’d said. It was the first time he’d actually felt a need to mourn the death of one of his fellow men, and he’d just babbled on like a scared little boy. The seconds of silence continued and each one Obe thought of speaking again, just to sound better, just to do the good men some justice. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He only stood there with that same dead, blank stare as the rest of them, too scared to speak.

  “Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” Doov announced. It came out of nowhere. It came all too soon. “The Family thanks you, too, as do today’s honorees. There are no new Family members to introduce, so you may go on with…”

  “NO!” Obe screamed. Doov stopped like he’d been sucker-punched. The men in the alley turned their dead eyes and now there were expressions all around. Surprise and confusion among the younger men. Anger and disgust among the older half.

  Obe had no idea what had come over him. Never in his life had he been so spontaneous, so bold, so insistent. It scared the living hell out of him.

  The eyes from before were nothing compared to this. This time the eyes ate at him, waiting for more stupidity from his mouth if only to have more fuel for later chastising. Every man, every eye, every hungry heart demanded he continue. His heart slammed, skipped, disappeared for a crazy few seconds, then slammed, slammed, slammed before skipping and disappearing yet again. The heat and the tingles within him turned to sweats and sparks. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe. He hated it. He was choking, killing himself. Somewhere, an image of a silvery cloud shimmered in his mind.

  But also, he loved it.

  He couldn’t believe he had the time, the audacity, to recognize it then and there, but he’d never felt so alive. The men around him continued to watch and wait. Doov led the group of fierce, piercing stares. But Obe realized he didn’t care what any of them thought, and that was the difference. He only cared about doing what should be done.

  “Don’t you get it?” he said with a smooth, calm voice. And the words all came so easily after that. “These two men… they were special. They were friends. Real friends! They lived, and they died for one another.”

  Some of the men, younger ones mostly, softened their eyes, but no one spoke or even cracked a smile. “Since none of you have the courage to admit it or talk about it, I will. They stuck together when every other man around here plans and schemes and cons. You stab each other in the back because none of you can be trusted. But Jile and Roe didn’t fall into that bullshit. They did their own thing and they did it against all of you. Don’t you see how noble that is? We can’t just pass them off like they were the equal of Jain of all people. He was an asshole,
and you all know it!”

  “GREENHORN!” Doov yelled, startling many of the men and shocking Obe into a few more seconds of that childhood embarrassment. “You dare to mock our way of life when you yourself are still a child within it! You disrespect not only one of our dead but also our Family.” Obe reddened, tried to stand tall and strong, but felt the weight of all those eyes that punctuated Doov’s words. He was quickly filling with the exhilaration of exposed anger. “I’ve also heard tales about you that I didn’t want to believe. Tales about cloudwatching. The way it was told to me you seem to feel as if we were all on a little vacation.”

  Doov groaned audibly. The men in the alley spread away from the space between them but remained close, waiting. “Your… game,” he said, “is childish and most distressing to us elders. It is the kind of behavior that gets men killed, and I assure you the Family will have no part of it.”

  “The clouds?” Obe fought back. “That’s what you’re upset about? Jesus. No wonder the Hillbruhs think you guys are looney. It’s no game, Doov. It’s a memory. A good one. And it’s the only way I know of still finding joy in this horrible place. It’s how I remember my brother.” He squinted into Doov’s face. “My real brother. I honor him every time I see the image of a tree or a face or a fucking bird. You call this ‘funeral’ of yours ‘honor’, but you don’t understand a thing about it.”

  Doov said and did nothing. He only stood there, his neck and face burning red with anger. Then, stepping down from his bucketed stand, he walked directly to Obe and stopped a few inches from his face. When he spoke, it was in a low, threatening tone.

  “Your brother,” Doov said, “is dead.”

  And despite what he knew, the words hit their mark. Obe felt the plunge of a fist into his chest and the tearing of years from his life. In his mind he saw a faceless figure with a small scar on his forehead running, running. Then smashed in the back by the grill of a car. Then lying face-down, unmoving, with blood pouring from a cracked skull. The horror of it made his tongue begin batting at the roof of his mouth.