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A demon grinned in Sue’s dark nightmares. It stalked
her, reaching clawed hands for her, and she whimpered.
The blanket was torn away, and a whip cracked down on
her back, and she cried out, leaping away to see Judge Harrison grinning at her.
Sue huddled along the wall with shards of paint cutting at her skin and clawing
at a thin line of red that already ran down her back.
“Oh,” he whispered, his look turning to one of
concern. “Naughty, naughty little Susie. Daddy’s bad little girl was not
supposed to try and run away. Daddy is going to have to punish her for that.”
Shaking his head, Harrison made a mocking, sympathetic noise. One hand
unloosened his belt and opened his fly.
“Get over here.”
Sue hid her face in her arms.
“Damn you, you slut,” he shouted. “I said
now.”
The quirt lashed down again, and Benny howled in rage.
He leaped at Harrison only to be dragged back, out of the apartment.
Gert scowled. She took a deep breath of damp air that
smelled of black wood mold and raw flesh.
“Man, Stumpy, but you sure got some mess. I got you
something, though, at least for that.” She glanced at the black eye Sue was
trying to hide behind a trembling hand. Gert pulled a small bottle from a
cavernous handbag. She scowled at it. “No, that’s the magic powder that old
woman give me –” She frowned, muttering, “Gave
to me. Got watch my English or they won’t allow me to take my entrance exam to
NYU.” She glanced at the bottle. “That old woman says this stuff is
guaranteed to blind anybody I throw it on, at least temporarily.” She
shuddered and tossed it back in the purse. She fished around and came out with a
brick and dropped that back in, then a small pistol that in her hand could have
been a child’s toy.
“Aha!” she grabbed something out of a side pocket
and held it up in triumph, then scowled.
“Shoot. Too dark. It’ll make you look like me.”
One glance in the mirror and she grinned. “You ain’t that pretty. Too darn
light to be really pretty.”
Sue glanced in and saw the state of her face. A black
line of dried blood ran down from her nose to streak her chin and breasts.
“My God,” she whispered, her hand slowly lowering
to the welts and bite marks Harrison put on her. “I’m gonna kill that
freak.”
Tearing free of Gert’s hand, she grabbed a pair of
jeans from the floor and her coat.
“Baby, please,” Gert shouted, reaching for her but
drawing back. She had twenty pounds and almost a foot of height on Sue, but Sue
in a rage made pit bulls cringe.
“What the hell for?” Sue slapped at the wounds.
“You see this mess? I am sick of it.”
Gert grabbed her and held her. “Sue, honey, think
o’ Ama. You mess with him, the Party done got you, sure. You’ll go to some
place up in the hills, and they’ll serve you up for dinner to the guards and
anybody what wants you. Oh, please, Sis, calm down. Please,” she whispered.
Ama coughed and choked in her room, and Sue’s head
bent.
“Harrison, he got guards ‘round his house, Sue.
Got guard dogs and laser webs. His cousin is President Carlton. Anything
happened to the man, they’d wipe out most of north Philly. They did it in Rio
when his niece bought the farm in a fire-fight. They did it here enough times,
burning houses down to stop the food riots three years ago.”
Sagging in Gert’s arms, Sue began to weep, and Gert
joined her. Huddled in the corner, Benny felt a few tears running down the face
of his body in the hospital.
Seated in the security of his offices, McMaster glared
at the fading shiner on his beloved Sue, cursing whoever might have done it. He
winced, knowing, and was smart enough to be afraid. It marred the delicate
beauty of the rose, the sweetness of her youth and made her appear aged and
cold.
Voice tight with hate for the Judge, he whispered,
“Get to class.”
As the door opened, he stared at her bottom and
lightning struck.
“Sue . . . Will you be available tonight?”
She stopped, turning slowly.
A slow, easy grin came on her face.
“Can’t, Teacher.”
McMasters frowned, then sighed. He raised his hands as
if to beg but her face changed.
“I’m busy.”
“Doing what?” he blurted. “I can meet you at
that bar –”
“Church.”
“What?" Eyes wide, he snapped on a radio. A
political speech from Washington, DC, blared from it, then a canned roar as the
speaker stopped, the crowd bellowing their response in German. McMasters hissed,
“Are you crazy? Violating parole –”
“Piss on ‘em,” she said and her heart sang.
“They don’t care what a nig does.”
“Where –” He shook his head. “Never mind. It
would have to be an illegal or you’d not be attending. Go on. Get out before
you get us both sent to camp.”
The radio shuddered as people screamed, “All hail!
All hail the New Messiah. All hail the Party of democracy!”
Deep and soothing Carlton’s voice came on, and the
canned cheers stopped just a hair too abruptly for reality’s sake. Sue glanced
at the radio and gave a low snort of laughter. She hitched up the sagging jeans
and padded out, passing a disapproving secretary and the school mascot, a
stuffed jackass with the Party symbol on one mangy flank.
As the office door sighed shut behind her, she kicked
a paper out of her way and went to the girls lavatory. The toilets were blocked
or broken. It didn’t matter anyway since the water was turned off. Not enough
money to make repairs, nor had there been since the late Twentieth Century. She
jumped on a broken pipe to slip through a window and into the watery sunshine,
and to hell with what the school said.
Outside the window was a rusting car. She dropped from
the window to the hood, then did a neat flip that somersaulted her to the
cracked, weedy pavement.
Behind her an unseen and unnoticed cheering section
drifted out the window.
Benny jumped over a patch of broken glass and trailed
Sue to a hole cut in the heavy chain link fence. She slipped through, then
stopped, frowning, to glance in Benny’s direction.
He froze, but whatever was bugging her passed, and she
moved out into a few hours of freedom.
He started after her when hands snatched him up and
back, then down into the crumbling pavement.
Like some outhouse poet stated: All is black. Without is not but voided crap.
“Hey, chill,” he shouted, rubbing his shoulder as
a bruise appeared on his body. He couldn’t feel it, but it was there. “If
that’s you, God, then beat it. You ain’t supposed to bug folks once
they’re dead.”
Low, mocking laughter surrounded him. Something told
him it wasn’t God playing games. A chill shivered over his flesh in the
hospital room, and he knew it like he knew bimbos and beer.
Hello, Benny.
Trying to tear loose and run, Benny opened his mouth to
scream, and grave soil filled it.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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