The Last Jeskey - Chapter 11

 

The Last Jeskey

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 11

 

(Day 2 – Friday)

 

Freaky

 

That cop had left me stuck in a room where I was surrounded by more cops.  They were everywhere around me.  Oh, they gave me a chair to sit in, but the whole time I sat there, I could see them all turning their heads to stare at me, even when I figured they were supposed to be doing something else.

Don’t talk to cops!  It kept running through my head.  But I had already talked to a cop yesterday.  In fact, I had talked too much.  And now look where it got me.  Dave and Gary were going to kill me when they saw what I was wearing, and I still didn’t know what I was going to tell them about my hair.  Would they believe that the cops had made me do it?  I remembered that nice warm rainwater room that was inside their bathroom.  That had certainly been nice.  The only nice thing I could remember about yesterday.

Where was that cop?  When was he coming back?  And more importantly, when was he going to take me home?  I was stuck in a room, surrounded by cops.  What if they asked me a question?  Should I answer?  Don’t talk to cops!

Will, the cop, finally came back.  “You doin’ okay?” he asked me.  He had to be kidding.  I was surrounded by cops.  “Can I go home now?” I asked.

“Not quite yet,” he told me.  “I gotta talk to a judge about a search warrant first.”

I had no idea what a search warrant was.  I  really didn’t care.  I just wanted to get out of there and go home!  Since my laundry had been out on the line all night, I figured the morning dew would be all over it.  Had the sun been up long enough to dry it again?  I hoped so.  I planned on checking it just as soon as I could.  If…they ever let me out of that place.

Will, the cop, finally came back.  He had some paper in his hand.  “Everyone!” he shouted to get all those cops to pay attention to him.  “As soon as I get back, be prepared to head out to the Jeskey place.  All of us!  And I don’t have to tell you what you’ll be doing out there.”

I stood up.  “I can go home now?” I asked hopefully?

“Just as soon as I get back,” he told me.  “Got to pick up the warrant first.”

I sat back down, fuming.  They were never going to let me go home!

It seemed like forever before he got back.  “Load ‘em up!” he yelled as he walked past the room.  “Amanda, you better ride with me and Freak.”  Everyone around me jumped up and started leaving.  Will, the cop, was back a few minutes later.  “Freak,” he said from the doorway.  “Let’s go.”

Yes, yes, yes!  I hurried out the door after him.  Home!  I got into the back of his car again and he helped me get all my hair in there too.  Amanda got in the front seat with him.

Through the entire long ride in the car, I anxiously watched out the window, hoping to see the farm, but like everything the day before, all I saw was strange places and weird things.  Eventually, I realized that we had been passing nothing but empty fields and woods.  Not long after, the road turned to dirt.  Still, we kept going.  Then suddenly I saw it.  The farm!  The road passed through the opening in the fence, and I wanted to shriek with joy.  I was home, and I never wanted to leave there again.  It was still a few moments before the house came in sight.  Home!

As we pulled to a stop, well back from the house, my eyes checked the trucks in the yard.  Bo’s, Steve’s, Ben’s, and Daves.  Gary wasn’t there.

“Amanda,” the cop said.  “You stick close to her while we’re here.  I don’t care where she goes, just as long as she’s not in the way.  And I’m for sure going to need her as soon as we’re done with the house.”

“Got it,” Amanda replied.

The cop got out of the car with some paper and walked towards the house.  I pushed against the car door and tried to open it, but as always, I couldn’t.  Amanda thankfully opened the door for me.

“Try using the handle next time to open it,” she said.

Handle?  What handle?  For what?

I noticed Dave standing on the front porch now as the cop headed toward him.  “Uncle Dave!” I said as I hurried in that direction.  By the time I got there, Dave and the cop where talking about something.  Men’s business.  I didn’t care about that.  But I did care that Dave was staring daggers at me.

“What happened to you?” he asked, sounding way to angry for the fear in my stomach.

“We cleaned her up some,” the cop told him.  “Had to!  My wife donated the clothes.”

And then I saw Dave’s face screw up into the weirdest look, just before he started laughing out loud.  I felt embarrassed.  Did these clothes make me look funny?

“Her hair touches the ground,” Dave said.  “Her hair actually touches the ground!  Ha!”  He looked up into the air and shouted.  “Hear that Ben?  I won.  Her hair hits the ground!”

“What’s that about?” the cop asked.

Dave was still laughing.  “Me and Ben had this running bet going over whether or not her hair was long enough to hit the ground yet.  I won!”

And then it hit me.  “Laundry!” I exclaimed.  I rushed towards the front door.  “I gotta check my laundry.”

I went in and Amanda stayed right behind me.  I was about to rush to the back door of the house, but I detoured into the kitchen instead.  I pulled open a drawer and grabbed a small jar.  I opened it and shook out a pill, and swallowed it.

“What’s that?” Amanda asked.

“Vitamins,” I told her.  “Bo makes sure I take one every day to keep me healthy.  See?” I said as I held the little jar out so she could see the label.  I traced the big black word with my finger.  “Vi-ta-mins.”  I laughed.  “Don’t tell Bo, but I figured that word out all by myself.”

“Freak,” Amanda said.  “That doesn’t say vitamins.”

I was so disappointed.  “It doesn’t?”

“No.  It says Estrogen.  What kind of vitamins are estrogen?”

I shrugged.  “The kind that keeps me healthy.  I stuck the little jar down in the box in the drawer with all the other jars of vitamins like it and closed the drawer.  “The wash!” I said as I continued hurrying through the house.  “This way,” I said.

I grabbed a plastic laundry basket from the floor near the back door and pushed the door open.  I was relieved to see all my wash hanging neatly on the line.  I grabbed parts of it here and there to feel if any of it was wet.  Nope!  All dry.  All good!  I was relieved.  Happy to be back to doing the things I knew and the things I was supposed to be doing, I started removing the clothespins and folding everything up.  A minute later, Amanda was helping me.  That was nice of her.

“Those…vitamins,” she said as we folded clothes.  “How long have you been taking them?”

That was a strange question.  “All my life.”

She seemed to stare at me as she folded one of Steve’s shirts.  “Yeah, but why?” she muttered softly.

We were just folding the last of it when that cop, Will, came out through the back door, and he had two more cops with him.  “Whatever you’re doing,” Will said, “I need you now Freak.”

Whatever I was doing?  Was he blind?  I was taking down the wash.  “I gotta put this in the house first,” I told him.  Amanda stuck the last shirt in the basket, and I picked it up and carried it into the house.  I just set it down on the floor by the door though.  “What do you need?” I asked.  Getting that wash off the line and in the house was a big relief.  I should have gotten to it yesterday.

“You said you knew where all those hiding places are,” the cop said.  “I need you to show them to me.”

“I don’t know about all of them,” I told him.  “I just know the ones I’ve seen.”

“Then point them out for me.”

“You know that’s men’s business, not mine,” I told him.

“And I’m a man,” he countered.

He did have a point with that.  “Why can’t Dave show them to you?  He and the others are the ones who use them?”

“Dave is a bit…occupied at the moment,” he told me.  “Men’s business.  Important men’s business.  He wants you to show us where those places are instead of him.”

“He does?”  That didn’t sound right to me.  Besides, what if Dave saw that I was talking to a cop again?

“He certainly does,” the cop told me.  “He’s just too busy right now to show us himself.”

I stared at him, and he stared at me.  “It doesn’t sound right,” I said.  “I’m not even sure I’m supposed to know where those places are.”

“But you do know,” he countered.

“I think so anyway.  I’ve never opened them or even seen inside.  That’s all men’s business.”

“And like I said, I’m a man.”

I searched for another way to get out of showing him.

“Besides he finally said.  “If you don’t show me, all of them, and right now, I’ll make sure Dave and Gary put you in so much trouble you won’t know what hit you.”

“Sheriff!” Amanda exclaimed softly.

But the cop just kept staring at me.  The last thing I needed was to be in trouble with Gary and Dave.  “Okay,” I said.

I turned and headed toward the barn.  Everyone followed me.  The inside of the place was dim and filled with junk.  I turned to the left and walked into one of the small little room-like things that the guys had called stalls.  At the very back of it, I looked at the wall and said, “This is one.”

“Where?” the cop asked, sounding confused.

I had never even tried to open that door before and when it was closed it was almost invisible.  I had to fuss around with it a bit before a small piece of the wall opened.  The cop pulled me away and took a look.  He turned back to the others.  “There’s a latch in here, but it’s got a real thick chain and padlock going through it.  Shit, if she hadn’t shown us that, I would have never known it was there.  This whole stall must be built against a false wall.  “Good work Freak.  Thanks.  “How about some others?”

I shrugged.  “There’s one on the other side like this,” I told him.  “There may be some in the woods somewhere, but I don’t go there unless I’m being punished.  I hate the woods!”

Shouting of someone yelling, “Sheriff!  Sheriff!” came from outside the barn.  The cop turned and hurried back to the big barn door.  “What’s the problem?”

“Dave attacked Lowrey and took off.  He’s gone!”

The cop started running.  “How’s Lowrey?”

I didn’t hear anymore, but all the other cops started running too.  All except Amanda, and I could see she wanted to go.

“Go!” I told her.  “Why not?”

“Cause the sheriff told me to stick with you, and something tells me I better do just that.”

I shrugged.  “If they’re done with me, I gotta start thinking about getting lunch ready for the guys.  I couldn’t feed them dinner last night or breakfast this morning.  I don’t want them madder at me than they’re already gonna be.”

She walked with me back towards the house and said, “It doesn’t sound like you’ve got anyone left to cook for.”

I considered that.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.  What if Dave and Gary come back?  I need to be prepared if they do.”  She must have gotten my point because she kept walking with me.

The cop came back out of the house before we even got there.  “How’s Lowrey?” Amanda asked.

“Hurting a bit, but he’ll be fine,” the cop told her.  He didn’t sound happy.  He turned to me.  “Freak, where’s all your clothes?  Taking a look at them is next on my list.  I can’t do anything about those hiding places they had until we get a real good pair of bolt cutters.”

I had no idea what bolt cutters were, and I didn’t care.  Men’s business.  “My clothes?”

“Please.”

He had said please, but I got the impression he wasn’t giving me a choice.  I continued on toward the house with him and Amanda following me.  The little room just inside the back door had a small closet in it.  I opened the closet and pulled out my plastic bag that held all my things.  I knelt down on the floor and opened it.

“Wait!” the cop said.  He reached down and pulled me to my feet.  “We’ll do it.  Amanda, just dump it out, then go through it.  And watch your hands.  No telling what’s in there.”

The cop held me by my arm as Amanda dumped out my clothes bag.  She knelt down and started going through it all, piece by piece.  It took her no time to find my one and only other dress, along with the slit in the front of it.  She looked up at Will.  “There’s blood here,” she said.

“I was afraid of that,” the cop told her.  “Keep going.”

Amanda set my dress aside and picked up one of my skirts.  She seemed to look over every inch of the thing.  “Nothing,” she said and set it aside.  She grabbed one of my shirts and immediately found the little hole in the middle of it.  She held the shirt up so the cop could see it.  “Another hole, more blood.”

The cop said nothing as she set it on top of my dress.  She grabbed my nightgown and spent a long time looking it over carefully.  “Nothing,” she said as she set it with my skirt.  She picked up my other shirt and searched it, then stuck her finger through the slit in the side of it.  She looked closely at that little slit, then turned my shirt inside out.  “Blood,” she said before she set that shirt with my other shirt and the dress.  She pulled out the two pairs of panties I owned, but never wore.  She looked at them, then tossed them aside.  She grabbed my one remaining skirt and looked it over as thoroughly as she had my first one.  “Nothing,” she said as she tossed it on top of my nightgown.  She picked up my bra that I never wore.  She searched through it, then held it up so the cop could see the bit of red on it.  “More blood,” she said.

She grabbed one of my two sweaters and immediately found the little hole in the back along with more blood.  My other sweater had a hole and blood in a different place.

Amanda tossed the sweaters onto the pile with my dress.  “This is all the clothes you have?”

“I’ve got a coat, but I don’t keep it in the bag,” I told her.

“Where?” the cop asked me.  I went back into the floor of the closet and pulled it out.  Amanda searched it, but not for long, she showed the cop the hole in the back, but didn’t say anything about it.  She looked to me.  “Anything else?”

“No.  Of course not” I replied.  “Why would I need any more?”

She shook her head and stood up.  The sheriff kicked my two skirts into the closet, then stuffed everything else into my clothes bag, including my coat.  He handed the bag to Amanda.  “Stick this in the car.  The D.A. is going to have a fit when we tell him how much DNA testing he’s going to need to approve.”

“Do you care?” Amanda asked as she took the bag from him.

“Not a bit.”

I followed the cop out to the main room of the house where the kitchen was.  I saw other cops doing things all over the house, but I didn’t have a clue what they were doing.  Men’s business, but it looked like I was going to have a big mess to pick up.  Why couldn’t men be a bit neater?

When we got to the kitchen there were a lot of guns laid out on the table.  A saw a bunch of what the guys had called rifles that I knew they used when they went hunting, and a bunch of what they called handguns that they used for…well, they just always had them.  Men’s business.  Not mine.

The Last Jeskey - Chapter 10

 

The Last Jeskey

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 10

 

(Day 2 – Friday)

 

Sheriff Cobb

 

“What are we going to do with her?”  They were the first words my wife spoke when we had woken up that morning.

“Don’t know yet,” I replied.  It was something that had been haunting me as well.  “She’s not under arrest.  We’ve got no reason to hold her.”

“But we can’t send her back home!” she insisted.  “Not if they’ve been treating her like that, not to mention raping her left and right.”

“No,” I agreed.  “She can’t go home.  Not to stay anyway.  It certainly wouldn’t be safe.”

“Can we arrest Dave and Gary on slavery charges?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “Was it Bo who was really behind it all, or did his boys have anything to do with it too?  Like with everything else with that bunch, we’ve got no real evidence.  I’m planning on talking to the D.A. about the case this morning.  Let’s see what he says.”

“There’s got to be something we can arrest those other two Jeskeys for,” she pressed.

“Probably,” I replied.  “After the D.A., I have no doubt I’ll be applying for a search warrant.  From what we heard from her last night, we need to find where they’re hiding their drugs and those guns.”

“And anything else you can dig up as well.”

“If we can find anything at all,” I agreed.

“Just don’t take her home!” she argued.

“I may not have a choice,” I told her.  “Besides, I’m hoping she can point out those hiding places the Jeskeys have.  That would be a major victory for us.  But as to what happens to Freak, it may all depend on what evidence we actually find out there.  In the past, we’ve never found anything at all when it comes to that family.  We suspect they’re behind a major portion of all the bad stuff that’s happened in this county.  We’ve just never once gotten any decent evidence for any of it.  Bo and his boys have always been masters of hiding what they’ve done.”

“Like they’ve been hiding that girl.”

“Yeah.  Pretty much.”

The surprise came when Nat and Freak were finally ready to leave.  Freak looked so different wearing Nat’s skirt and top.  It was just those boots of hers that floored me.  And then Nat came over and dropped the bomb about all her clothes having blood on them.  It was another matter to put before the D.A. and another reason I was sure the judge would have no problem granting us the search warrant.

With Freak looking like a completely different person than yesterday, I put her in the back of my squad car and drove her back to the station.  You should have seen the reaction she got from literally everyone.  The two biggest things I heard talked about though were why was she wearing those dumb boots, and the fact that her hair was dragging on the ground behind her.  But overall, the general reaction was amazement.  Yeah, despite the crummy boots she was wearing, she looked like an entirely different person.  She smelled a whole lot better too.  Trust me!

I left her in the care of everyone in the squad room, got back in my car and headed over to have a little chat with the D.A.

D.A. Dale Murphy was one of those no-nonsense kind of guys.  It wasn’t that I particularly liked him.  It was more like I simply didn’t mind him.  He did his job.  Sometimes he made decisions I didn’t like, more often he sided with me.  That was good enough.

He sat patiently behind his desk while I laid out the facts about Roxie shooting Bo, Steve, and Ben.  And then I started telling Murphy about how accommodating Roxie had been afterwards, and I didn’t forget to include the little talk she had agreed to have with Freak.  Just saying the name Freak seemed to send Dale’s head into an almost imperceptible spin, but it was enough that I noticed it.

“Freak?,” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.  “Besides the murders, the biggest surprise of the day.”

“You make it sound like this is a person.”

“Without a doubt.  The question though is what kind of person is she?”

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“As far as we can tell, Freak.  Just…Freak.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope, and just getting that much information on her was almost impossible.  Roxie told us a little about her, what little she knows that is.”

“So what’s her problem that you had to arrest her?”

“I didn’t arrest her, we just hauled her out of that house and my wife decided to take her home with us last night to clean her up a bit.  She was…the filthiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life.  Not to mention, she has the longest hair of anyone I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He shrugged.  “Some women aren’t exactly a bundle of joy to be around.”

“Not like this, they’re not.”

“So the only name you found for her is Freak, and you haven’t been able to dig up anything different.”

“Not yet,” I told him.  “And according to what we got out of her last night, it’s Freak, and it’s always been Freak, and she doesn’t remember anything else.”

“Or not remembering is simply more convenient,” he pointed out.  “Can we get a DNA sample and have it tested?”

“Are you willing to foot the bill?” I asked.  “But before you answer, we may very well need it, for a number of reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, according to my wife, she believes rather strongly that Freak has been living as a slave.  A real live slave to those Jeskey boys.  And let me tell you, everything we heard from her yesterday and last night was absolutely hair-raising.  Natalie wants me to ask you if we can arrest Dave and Gary on slavery charges.  To tell the truth though, slavery may be the least of the charges we can level at them.”

“Charges for the remaining Jeskeys?” he asked, his head perking up.  “Like what?”

“How about incest for a start.  Incest and pimping.”

“Incest!” he exclaimed.  “Really!”

“More than really,” I replied.  “In fact, pretty much absolutely!  For as long as she can remember, and Dean, she ain’t but nineteen or twenty.  Her age has been a bit hard to tell though because she was so filthy.”

“Did you ask her age?”

“Not yet.  We just found her yesterday, and most of that time she was pretty adamant about not opening her mouth at all.  Like I said, fortunately, Roxie helped us with that.  A lot!”

“So you said,” he replied.  “I’ll take it under advisement.  Look,” he said.  “We’re talking about the Jeskeys here.  We’ve never had one shred of evidence against them other than for things so minor we probably shouldn’t have even bothered serving them with it, but we’ve always known…sorry, suspected…that they were doing a lot more than just robbing candy stores.”

“They’ve been pretty darn good about hiding the evidence,” I pointed out.  “Like I said earlier, from what Roxie told me, I’m guessing they’ve got some kind of burial or disposal site for all their bodies.  We just need to find it.”

“Don’t I wish!” he agreed.

“We may have a few other angles on the Jeskeys now too,” I told him.

“Oh?”

“Freak mentioned during dinner last night that the guys talked a lot about not just drugs, but guns too.  We had no idea they were running guns.  But Freak mentioned automatics, and AKs, which I’m taking means AK-47s.  So those guns, along with the drugs, have to be stashed somewhere.”

“Yeah, but where?” he said.

“That’s always been the problem,” I conceded.  “A big problem.  But this morning my wife told me something else that she found out from Freak.  According to her, all of Freak’s clothes have blood stains on them.  And none of that blood belongs to her.”

It looked like he couldn’t understand that.  “How can that be?”

“The simplest answer?” I said.  “All her clothes are coming from their victims.  We may have DNA evidence for a few more murders there.  Hopefully.”

He considered that.  “Get her DNA,” he agreed.  “If nothing else, we better have it to eliminate any of that blood as being hers.  And Will, if you can find anything solid to arrest Dave and Gary Jeskey on, do it!”

“That was my plan,” I agreed.  “My biggest hangup right now is…what the hell do we do with Freak?  Neither my wife nor I have the slightest clue, especially if I don’t find enough evidence to arrest Dave and Gary.  But even if I do, that girl is so out of touch with reality that something needs to be done.  Despite that though, she really just wants to go home, where she understands her life.”

Dean considered that for a moment.  “Don’t ask me what we need to do with her.  It’s not my department.  As I see it, if we can’t legally hold her on anything, she can go where she wants.  Including home, back where she came from.”

That wasn’t an answer I wanted.

The Last Jeskey - Chapter 9

 

The Last Jeskey

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 9

 

(Day 2 – Friday)

 

Freaky

 

In the morning, I laid there with my eyes closed, just smelling my hair.  It still smelled so nice, just like when I had gone to sleep.  I couldn’t sleep in that bed.  I wasn’t used to sleeping in beds.  They were too soft.  Especially that one.

I finally opened my eyes and was surprised to find a blanket thrown over me.  I was guessing that Natalie must have done that.  It struck me then that Natalie was a nice woman, and right or wrong, I liked her.  Was that good or bad?  I wasn’t supposed to be talking to anyone other than Bo and the guys, but I had talked and talked and talked last night.  Why couldn’t I have kept my big mouth shut?

The more I thought about it, the more I remembered saying lots of things I probably shouldn’t have.  But, I was just so confused by everything!  It was hard to tell what I should do and what I shouldn’t.  And now I was finding that I liked Natalie, the wife of a cop…who I really shouldn’t have talked to at all!  What was I going to do?

Not really knowing where I was or what I should do, I sat up against the wall, keeping that blanket over me.  I was supposed to be home just then, in my own house, making breakfast for the guys.  I remembered then that Bo, Steve, and Ben were dead.  But Dave and Gary would still need breakfast.  And I hadn’t been home to make them dinner last night.  Did they eat?  They were really going to kill me for not being there to cook for them.  I’d be eating dog food from the floor for a year!

Despite that, I still just wanted to go home.  I wanted to go back to the life I knew.  I didn’t know about anything that I had seen since I left there.  Life outside the farm was way too complicated for me.  Nothing made sense!

I looked up as the door quietly opened and Natalie stuck her head in.

“You’re awake,” she said.  “Good morning.”

I swallowed.  What would she want of me now?  “Good morning,” I replied

“I’m getting ready to make some breakfast,” she told me.  “Want to help?”

Breakfast.  I was supposed to be making breakfast for Gary and Dave just then.  “Sure,” I agreed.  I pulled myself up from the floor and dropped the blanket on the bed.

“Why don’t we put this robe on you again, so you won’t be cold,” she suggested.

A minute later, I was snuggly warm in that nice robe.  I appreciated it, and once again I considered her to be a nice woman.  Maybe I shouldn’t, I didn’t know, but I liked her.

I followed her out to the kitchen.  The kitchen that confused me so much because I didn’t know what anything in it was.  Well, not exactly.  As I studied everything in the room, it mostly seemed to orient itself in my head.  I knew what the sink was, and the refrigerator, and the stove.  So yeah, maybe I wasn’t totally lost in there.

“Eggs?  Bacon?” Natalie suggested as she opened the refrigerator door.

What I saw inside that refrigerator was unlike anything my refrigerator had ever looked like.  Not only was it packed with things, but it was so bright!  You could see everything.  Natalie pulled a carton of eggs out and a package of bacon.  Something about the refrigerator confused me though, and not just its size.  “You only have one?” I asked.

“One?” Natalie asked.  “One what?”

“Refrigerator.”

She seemed surprised.  “How many do you have?”

“Two of course,” I told her.

“Wow,” she said.  “That must be nice.  Do you buy that much food for everyone?”

“I don’t buy anything,” I told her.  “I’ve never left the farm before.  The guys buy everything.”

“So they buy lots of food?”

“Not really.  It’s just that…”

“What she asked.”

“Where’s your beer fridge?”

“Beer fridge?”

“Yeah.  We’ve got one just for beer.”

Natalie looked at me.  “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.  I’m guessing the guys where you live drink lots of beer.”

“What else would they drink?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  Coffee, tea, iced tea, water, soda, anything.”

“No,” I told her.  “None of that.  Just beer…oh and some other things that come in big bottles.  I don’t know what they are exactly.  They say whiskey a lot, but I know there’s other stuff too.”

“What do they drink with dinner?” Natalie asked.

“Beer of course, what else?”

“How about breakfast?”

“Beer.  I told you, that’s all they drink when they eat.

“Freak,” she said.  “How about you?  Is beer all you drink?”

“Oh no!  Of course not.  I’m a girl.  I drink water.”

“And I’m guessing that’s it.”

“What else is there?  What were those things you were talking about a minute ago?”

“What things?” she asked.  “You mean like coffee and soda?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t your guys ever drink coffee?”

“What is it?”

“I’m about to make some right now,” she said.  “You can have some with your breakfast.  In fact, I’m going to insist!”

I don’t know how she did it, but somehow Natalie made me feel at home as she found ways that both of us could cook together.  It amazed me how nice it was.  Once again, it struck me how much I liked her, even though her husband was a cop!  I didn’t know what I was supposed to do about that problem.

Will, her husband, the cop, came out all dressed in his weird clothes again.  He walked over to the machine that was making…coffee…and poured some into a mug.  Then he headed for the table.  This was more like I was used to.  The women cooking for the men.  The only thing that gave me some concern was that Natalie insisted that we should all sit down and eat at the same time he did.  I did it though.  Fortunately, Will didn’t appear to find anything wrong with that at all.  I vowed then and there not to mention it to Gary or Dave.  In fact, I was going to do my best to not mention anything I had gone through so far to them.  And then I remembered my hair.  How was I going to explain that?

I took two sips of that coffee stuff and didn’t touch it again.  No wonder the guys never talked about drinking it.  It was awful!

After we ate, I offered to wash the dishes, but Natalie said she’d take care of them.  I watched in total confusion as instead of washing them in the sink like I would do, she pulled down kind of a door under the counter and started sticking all the dishes and everything else onto racks inside it.  I couldn’t help myself.  “What’s that?” I asked.

“You’ve never seen a dishwasher?” she said.  “You don’t have one?”

“Have one?  What does it do?”

“It washes the dishes.”

“For real?”

“Yeah.  What did you think?”

“I think I don’t know anything about…anything!”  I was so frustrated I turned and hurried straight back to that bedroom I had slept in.

Natalie came into the room only moments later.  “Sorry Freak,” she said.  “I didn’t mean to upset you.  I never thought about you not knowing what a dishwasher is.”

“I don’t know what anything is since I left the farm,” I told her.  “I just want to go home!  I don’t care what the guys do to me.”

“It’s okay,” Natalie told me.  “We’ll talk about getting you home later this morning.  How about we get you dressed first though.”

I considered what I was wearing, her nightgown and a robe.  Nice things.  Pretty things.  Comfortable things.  But she was right.  I had to get dressed, and Dave and Gary would only ask more questions if they saw me in someone else’s clothes.  I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to explain my hair.

Natalie led me back to her bedroom.  I looked for my dress, but I didn’t see it.  I did see my boots though.  I slipped my feet into them.  “Where’s my dress?” I asked.

“Sorry Freak,” she told me.  “But Will said that because of the bullet hole and blood stains on it, that dress is now evidence.”

“It’s what?” I asked.

“Evidence,” she repeated.  Then she sighed.  “Kind of proof of a crime.  Do you understand that?”

“Not really.  It sounds like men’s stuff to me.”

“Yeah,” she agreed.  “It probably would.”

“But what am I going to wear?  I can’t go home in this.  If I’m not wearing my clothes, the guys will ask too many questions.  I’m already worried about what they’re going to say about my hair.”

“Freak, I’m afraid that like it or not, you’re just going to have to borrow something of mine.  But don’t worry, I’m sure I can find you something a lot prettier to wear than that dress that didn’t fit you.  Not to mention, it will be in much better shape.”

I was perturbed over the situation, but what was I going to do about it?  It didn’t sound like they were going to give me my dress back.  “Do I have a choice?” I asked.

“No, I’m afraid,” she replied.  “Hey!” she said excitedly as she opened her closet.  “How about a nice pair of slacks.  Since you live out in the country, they should probably work the best.”

“Slacks?” I asked.

She pulled out several hangers with clothes on them.  I immediately saw what slacks were.  “They’re pants!  No!  No way!  Girls don’t wear pants.  Pants are for guys only, and I’m a good girl.  No.  No pants!”

“But Freak, that’s not how things really are,” she argued.

But I wasn’t going to give in on the issue.  “No!  No way!” I told her.  “I don’t see how you can even cope wearing those things.”

“A lot better than wearing a dress!” she replied angrily.  “Okay.  No pants.  Geez!  We’ve got to bring you into the twenty-first century.”

I had no idea what she was talking about.  I was just glad she wasn’t going to try and make me wear pants.  I was a good girl.  I had already gone and done way too much that I shouldn’t.  Natalie had said something about me going home later this morning.  It was time to get back to behaving like I was supposed to.  Like I was comfortable with.

She laid out skirts and tops and a few dresses.  Every last one of them was nicer than anything I had ever worn.  “Are you sure I can’t wear my old dress?” I asked.

“Sorry,” she replied.  “Blood stains.  Evidence.”

“So what?” I argued.  “Most of my things have blood on them.”

She seemed startled.  “They do?  Your blood or someone else’s?”

“I don’t know.  Not mine.  I just can’t get it out when I wash them.”

She seemed to just look at me for the longest time before she muttered, “One problem after another.  Geez!”

At least she wasn’t yelling at me.

After trying on a few things, I finally agreed to wear one of her skirts and a top, but not before we argued over me refusing to wear underwear, especially the bra she tried to give me.  “I’ve got one at home,” I told her, “and the one time I tried to wear it, not only was it too difficult to get on, it was so uncomfortable I couldn’t stand it.  I threw it in the bottom of my clothes bag, and I haven’t touched it since.  No underwear.  There’s no sense in it.  Besides, what if one of the guys wants to have sex with me, like you know they will as soon as they see this hair.  Underwear will just be something else that I’ve got to take off.”  Why did she have to keep staring at me so much?

The skirt and top fit me just fine.  In fact, I rather liked them, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.  But the minute I started to put my boots on again, she had another fit.  What was wrong with her?  “There’s no blood on these,” I told her.  “That I know of.”

“They don’t go at all with what you’re wearing.  Don’t you want to wear something nicer?  I’ve got some sneakers here.  Why don’t we see if they’ll fit.”

“Sneakers?” I asked.

“Real comfortable shoes,” she said as she hurried to the closet and pulled a pair of weird looking shoes out.

I quickly shook my head.  “No way!” I told her.

She seemed surprised, not to mention disappointed.  “How about just a pair of flip-flops?” she asked.

I had no idea what flip-flops were.  “I don’t know what they are,” I said.  “These are a lot better for walking around the farm.”

She stared at me for only a second before she asked, “Is it muddy out there?”

“It gets pretty bad whenever it rains.”

“For that, maybe you’ve got a point then.”  She seemed to sigh.  “Okay.  I guess you’re as ready as you’re going to get.  Let’s go.”

I was ready to go…home!

“Are you sure you don’t want to try some of my shoes?” she asked as we walked out of the room.  “Or maybe just a pair of flip-flops?”

“No!  My boots are better.  It’s all just…too much!”

We found her husband, the cop, in the living room watching that T Fee thing.  “Ready,” Natalie told him.

He turned and looked me over.  His face seemed to go from looking very happy to confused.  “The boots are a little…” he started to say.

“Don’t!” Natalie said quickly.  “We’re lucky I got her to wear that much.”

I saw her husband shake his head, then pick up a plastic bag.

“Will,” Natalie said quickly.  She went over and talked to him, but she whispered everything so I couldn’t hear anything she said.

Her husband seemed to look at her like he was shocked or something.  He looked over at me, then back at her before he nodded.  “Thanks,” he said.  “We’ll check.  I’ve got to talk to the D.A. first,” he told her.  “I’ll mention it.”

 

The Last Jeskey - Chapter 8

 

The Last Jeskey

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 8

 (Day 1 – Thursday)

Natalie

 

I hurried to the door.  As expected, Lila was on the other side.

“Six feet of hair?  Really?” she asked sarcastically as if she didn’t believe me.

I let her come in and closed the door.  Softly I said, “Lila.  Unless I miss my guess, you’re about to meet your first real live slave.  And just so you know, she’s white, and I seriously doubt she even knows she a slave.”

“You’re joking again, right?”

“No.  Unfortunately, I’m not.  And what’s worse, we don’t know what her real name is.  Everyone seems to have just called her Freak.”

Lila was looking at me like she didn’t know what to think.  “Freak?  For real?”

“I’m pretty sure she was a slave Lila,” I told her.  “I’m also pretty sure she has no concept of that.  Her sense of reality is all…totally warped.”

“For real,” she said.

“For real,” I confirmed.  “Come on.  We just got out of the shower.  She’s in my bedroom now.”

I led the way back through the house.  “Can you stay for dinner?” I asked.

“I ate already,” she told me.  “I just wanted to see what you called six feet of hair.”

I briefly looked back at her but kept leading the way.

In my room, it took Lila no time to notice the girl sitting in the chair.  She saw Amanda there too.  “Amanda,” Lila greeted her, despite the fact that her eyes never once left Freak.

Lila stood there and shook her head for the longest time.  “I have never seen hair that long.”

“Freak,” I said.  “Are you rested enough to stand up?”

Freak worked her way out of the chair and dropped her hair, letting it fall behind her.  As wet as it was, and as tangled as it was, it came down to her ankles.  Lila walked around behind her for a better look.  “My God,” she breathed.  “Six feet of hair.  Or close enough.  For real!”  I saw her take a big breath, gathering herself.  “Right!” she said.  “Let’s get to work.”  She looked Freak in the eyes.  “Um…Freak…” she said, “and I hope you don’t mind if I call you that, how about if we cut that hair to a more manageable length.  Something tells me you’d be a lot happier, and it wouldn’t take us nearly as long.  And trust me, I’m a hairdresser, I can make it look real pretty for you.  Wouldn’t that be nice?”

I noticed the panic hit the girl’s eyes the moment Lila suggested cutting it.

“No!” Freak cried as she took a step away from her and grabbed all her hair again, hugging that huge amount of mass tightly to her body.  It’s mine!  I need it.  It’s precious to me.  Please don’t cut it.  Please!”

“Okay!” Lila said quickly.  “It was just a suggestion, that’s all.  No scissors.  It’s just going to take a bit longer to straighten out.”  She paused a moment looking at that huge mass of hair again.  “Maybe more than a bit longer.”

Lila turned to me.  “Any chance we can get a decent chair for her to sit in?  Something I can work behind.”

“On it,” Amanda offered.  She disappeared and reappeared moments later with a chair from the dining room table.  Perfect.  Freak was put in the chair and Lila started pulling tools out of her large bag.  She grabbed both a comb and a brush and instead of starting at the top, she started at the bottom, working little bits of it at a time, trying to untie all those tangles that looked like they had been knotting themselves for years.  I heard her mutter that it would be a lot easier to do if she could cut it, or at least cut the tangles, but she kept working despite that.

The more I looked Freak over, and the more I thought about the way she must have lived, I thought it might be possible that she might have never bothered to brush her hair at all.

Eventually, Lila started to use the comb, the brush, and blow dryer on sections of her hair, all at the same time.  Amazingly, little by little, Freak’s hair started to straighten out.  Since Freak was sitting down, it was hard to tell, but I had no doubt that her hair was getting longer.  There was also no doubt that it was starting to look a lot fuller.  Wow, that girl had a head of hair!  If it was cut properly, any woman would die for it.

Will came into the bedroom while Lila was working.  “Chicken’s done,” he whispered.  “I put some vegetables on the stove, but I don’t want to cook them yet since I don’t know how long you’re gonna be.”

I kissed him.  “Thanks.  You’re a good man William Cobb.  Not like those louts that have been keeping her!”

“I aim to please,” Will replied as he kissed me back.  “If you’re going to be a while still, I’ll be out watching TV.  Call if you need me.”

“Thanks,” I told him.  “I hope it won’t be too much longer.”

Eventually, Lila declared that she was done with Freak’s hair.  “Freak,” Lila said.  “Maybe stand up so we can see what it all looks like.”

“I could see how nervous Freak looked.  Or was that scared?  Maybe both.  Slowly, she stood up and Lila pulled her away from the chair so her mass of hair could hang like a long, beautiful curtain behind her.

“Wow!” I heard Amanda mutter.

I could only agree.  I walked over for a closer look behind Freak.  I stared at the floor.  Her hair actually draped on the floor by a good four or five inches.

“It’s like a train,” Amanda realized.  “If she ever gets married, she won’t need one for her wedding dress, she’s already got it.”

I saw Freak looking at me, that worried look was still plastered on her face.  I had a full-length mirror on the wall.  I grabbed her and pulled her over to it.  “Look how beautiful you are,” I whispered.  I watched as she stood in front of that mirror and stared at herself.  I was about to suggest that she imagine herself wearing something real pretty, when her face screwed up into total fear and she let out a cry of complete alarm.  “Oh no!” she cried.  “No!”  She turned to me.  “What am I going to do?  This is bad.  This isn’t what I want!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, completely concerned.

“If the guys see me like this, they’re going to want to have sex more often.  All the time!  I hate when they do that too much.  This is just going to make it worse!”

I quickly turned her around and hugged her tightly.  “Don’t you worry about that!” I told her firmly.  “In fact, you never have to worry about that again.  I guarantee it.  That life is over!  As of right now, earlier today in fact, all that misery is long behind you!  You’re free now Freak.  Free!”

There were tears falling from her eyes.  “No,” she wailed.  “You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

“Dave and Gary are still there, and it’s a good thing they are.  If they weren’t, I don’t know what I’d do.  I need them.  I need them badly.  Without them, I’d die!”

“What do you mean, you’d die?  No, you wouldn’t.”

“I would.  I know for a fact that I would.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I just would.  I need them to take care of me, and they do.  That’s their job.  That’s what men do.”

Something told me I wasn’t going to get through to her in one fell swoop.  Her rotten life was too ingrained in her.  “Freak,” I said.  “For now, just don’t worry about them ever having sex with you again.  Okay?  Don’t worry about it.  I’ll talk to my husband, and we’ll make sure they never do it.  I promise.”

She shook her head.  “There’s nothing you can do.  There’s nothing anyone can do.  Besides,”  She seemed to sigh as she paused.  “It’s a small price to pay for them taking such good care of me for so long.  And…I guess I really don’t mind that much.  It’s just…sometimes they can hurt, you know?  But most of the time, it doesn’t last that long.  I’m used to it.  And…”  She pulled back and looked me in the eyes.  “I don’t care what you think.  I know girls aren’t supposed to care if it feels good for them or not, but sometimes, as rough as they are, it just…”

She stopped talking.  “What Freak?” I asked, trying to get her to go on.

“It feels good to have someone hold me and touch me like that.  It feels good to know they care about me.  You may not understand, but that’s the way it is.  And I know it’s not right for me to care, but I do.  I…like to be held sometimes.  Sometimes, I need to feel someone touch me.  I need to feel…wanted.  I’m sorry, but I do.”

Wanted.  Needed.  That was the crux of it.  Human contact.  And more than that, love.  The one most essential thing that a human needs.  Even if it was the completely warped imaginary love that Freak had probably convinced herself was the real thing.

I hugged her again.  “It’s okay Freak.  It’s okay.  I understand.  But Freak, we’ll do something to help you.  That much I promise.  Okay?  Just know, we’re going to help.”

She shook her head.  “But I don’t really need help.  I know what they all like.  I know what I need to do, and I’m good at it.  I can take care of all the women’s business on the farm.  I’ve been doing it all my life.”

“Trust me,” I said.  “You need help, even if you don’t understand that.  And like it or not, we’re going to help you.”

“How?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted.  “We haven’t had time to get all the details yet.  I never knew you were out there before, and I’m pretty sure that Will didn’t know it either.”

“Nobody was supposed to know I live there.  Bo was real strict about that.  Girls aren’t supposed to go showing themselves to everybody who comes to the house unless the men want it.  We’re supposed to be quiet and out of sight, not distracting to men’s business.  Girls have their own business to take care of, and it has nothing to do with men’s business.”

I had plenty I could say to that, but something told me she wouldn’t believe me.  “Okay,” I said softly as I pulled back and patted her lightly on the chest.  A thought hit me.  “Maybe,” I said.  “Maybe just for now, you can know that you’ve got a friend.  Maybe a few friends now, that are just yours.  Not their friends, your friends.  And Freak, we care about you.  Okay?  We didn’t know you before, but now we do, and we’re now your friends, and we care about you.  Can you live with that?”

I saw her struggling with the concept.  Did she even know what a friend was?  Maybe not.  I pulled her to me and hugged her again.  I was about to let go of her when I felt her arms hesitantly wrap themselves around me too.  Very lightly, she hugged me back.  When we pulled away I said, “Come on Freak.  Let’s get you some dinner.”

She smiled at that.  Amanda led the way out of the bedroom, and Lila and I followed.  I watched Freak’s hair trail on the floor as she headed out to the dining table.  Her own wedding train.  But would a girl like her ever get married?  I wanted that for her, but somehow I knew it was doubtful it would ever happen.  What kind of prospects for life did she really have?  I doubted she had any at all.  And she probably had no way to improve that situation either.  Another reason why she literally needed to have the Jeskey clan taking care of her…like it or not.

Will was still watching TV as we headed with Lila toward the door, but with Freak in front of me I had to stop when she did.  She was staring at the TV.  “Freak.  What’s wrong?  Anything?”

I watched as she turned her head this way and that, looking at the TV screen.  She moved closer to it.  “Hello,” she said to the screen.

Yeah, I was shocked, and I think so was everyone else.

Freak moved closer to the TV and waved her hand in front of it.  “Hello!” she said louder.  “Who are you talking to?”

She seemed to be getting upset.

“Freak,” Will said quickly.  “It’s just the TV.”

“T…Fee?”

“TV,” Will said again.  “Don’t you know what a TV is?”

She just stared at him for a moment then looked at the screen and waved her hand in front of it again.  “Hello!  Can you hear me?”

“Freak,” Will said.  “It’s not real!  There’s no one there you can talk to.”

“But there are people…”  She pointed to the screen.

“But there not real.  It’s like…pictures.  You can’t talk to anyone there.”

I watched as Freak seemed to take that in, then something seemed to click in her head.  “Like cellphones?” she asked.

“Sort of,” Will confirmed.

Freak nodded.  “The guys spend a lot of time looking at pictures on their cellphones, but I’ve never really seen them.  So the cellphones are like this, only…smaller?”

“Kind of,” Will said.

Freak took that in, then nodded.  “Men’s business.  Sorry,” she said, then moved away.

Men’s business again.  She had never even seen a TV before.  Come tomorrow morning, I wondered which one of those Jeskey men I was going to shoot first.

I said goodbye to Lila at the door and promised I’d be in touch with her tomorrow.  The TV was off, and Will was in the kitchen when I went back to the others.  Amanda was setting the table.  Freak was just staring at it all like she didn’t know what to do.  “Are you okay?” I asked.

She shook her head.  “All day I’ve seen things I don’t understand.  All day.  It’s…too much!  I feel…strange.  Like I’m afraid.”

I was guessing it was a bit of panic.  “What don’t you understand now?” I asked.

She pointed to the table.  “Do we all sit down together to eat?”

“Of course,” I replied.  “Why not?”

“But we’re women…”  She looked toward the kitchen.  “And he’s a man.”

“Yeah.  So?”

“So the women aren’t supposed to eat till after the men are done, and only if there’s enough food left.  That’s why it’s so important that we make enough when we cook it.”

“We have got to get you a new life!” I muttered, more to myself than to her.  “Trust me, there’s plenty of food.  And if there isn’t, we’ll cook more.  And like it or not, we’ll all eat together.  In fact, I insist on it.”

“You?  But you’re not a man.”

“Honey,” I said, “if anyone ever tried to stop me, I’d be the one doing the killing.  Just sit down and eat with us and try to enjoy it.”  She looked at me skeptically.

A few minutes later, we all sat down to eat, and when Freak took her first bite of the chicken, she looked like she was going to freak out.  “How do you get it to taste like this?” she asked.  “This is so good!”

“Thanks,” Will said.  “I do try.”

“You cooked it.  I know you did,” Freak said.  “But…it tastes so good!”

“Freak,” I said, wondering something.  “If only women do the cooking, who taught you to cook?”

“Bo can cook some.  He taught me.  He showed me how he likes everything and that’s the way I make sure it is, all the time.”

“So men do some cooking too,” I pointed out.

“Only if they have to.  They have me to do it for them now.”  I saw her face cloud.  “I don’t think Dave and Gary can cook at all though.  They are really going to kill me when I get home.”  She looked over at me.  “At the least, they’ll probably punish me.”

“Punish you?” Will asked.  “How?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I never know.  They’ve got lots of ways, and all of it is painful.  Plus, I know I’ll be eating dog food for a long time after this.  It’s okay though,” she said.  “I’m used to it.  They’ll get over it.”  I saw her look up.  “Bo’s not there now though,” she said.  “Maybe…maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“Hopefully not!” Will said firmly.  “And they better not do any of that!”

Freak shook her head.  “Dave’s not always so bad,” she said.  “But Gary likes to be mean.”

“Gary?” I asked.

She nodded.  “He likes it.”

It certainly wasn’t the food that was going to make me sick during dinner.  It was Freak’s life!  But that was the point where Will decided to start being the sheriff again.  “Freak,” he said while he stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth.  “You keep talking about men’s business and women’s business.  What do you know about the men’s business out where you live?”

That was a question I myself was very interested in.

Freak took the time to stick another piece of chicken into her mouth before she answered…while she looked down at her plate.  “Not much,” she told him.  “Men’s business is their concern.  Girls aren’t supposed to know anything about it.”

“But you do hear things,” Will said.  “You have to.  That place where you live, the kitchen and the living area are all like one big room.  So maybe you’ve heard things they talk about while you’re cooking and they’re in the room too, taking care of…business.”

I saw Freak consider that.  “I’ve heard…some,” she admitted.  “But I don’t understand any of it.  Mostly they talk about stuff like that at the table.”

“While you eat?” I asked.

She shook her head.  “While they eat, or drink, or just sit at the table.  I’m a girl!” she said pointedly.  “I’ve got no business eating with them.”

I wanted to ask if eating ever got lonely for her, but I bit my tongue.

“What kind of things do they talk about then?” Will asked.

I saw Freak shrug.  “Deals, I think,” she replied.  “Selling stuff.  Getting stuff.  Shipments.  I really don’t know.”

“Selling stuff,” Will said.  “What kind of stuff?  Drugs?”

“I don’t know,” Freak insisted.  “I don’t know what any of it is.”

“Have you heard them mention any goods they sell?” Will pressed.  “They must have mentioned some things.”

Again, Freak shook her head.  “I’m sure they do,” she said.  “But I don’t know what any of it is.”

“Like what?” Will pushed.

“I don’t know,” Freak said, trying to think of things.  “I’ve heard them say things like meth.  crystal, Opie something.  And lately they’ve been saying things like brownings, AK’s, automat something.  I don’t know.  I can’t remember, and I don’t know what any of it is.  It’s men’s business!  Not mine!”

“You said AK’s?” Will said.  “AK-47s?”

“What?  No.  They just say AK.  I don’t know what that is.”

Will looked over at Amanda.  “We had no idea they were running guns.  And automatics at that.”

I saw how surprised Amanda looked to hear about it too.

“Freak,” Will said.  “Do you know where they keep their drugs?  Or where they keep those guns?”

“I don’t know for sure.  They’ve got hidden places all over the farm.  Places that nobody can find.”

“But you know where those places are?”

“I’ve seen them go into some, but that’s all men’s business and they make sure I stay away.  Why would I be interested anyway?  I’ve got my own business to worry about.”

“It sounds like we’ll be making another trip to their farm tomorrow,” Amanda said softly.

Will nodded his agreement.  “Especially if she can show us where those places are.”

Now that the subject of illegal activities was hopefully over with, I turned to Freak.  “Freak,” I said.  “I should have asked you this before.  I really hate calling you that.  Don’t you have another name?  Something nicer?”

She seemed surprised.  “Nicer?  What’s wrong with Freak?  It’s my name.”

“It’s not something nice,” I told her.  Something occurred to me.  “Do you know what a freak is?” I asked.

She shrugged.  “It’s just my name.  How can a name be something else?”

She had no clue!  “So you don’t know of any other name for yourself?”

“Of course not.  I’m Freak.  Why would I have another name?”

“So you’re okay being called that?” I asked.

She seemed to get frustrated.  “Why does everybody keep asking about my name?  It’s Freak!  Okay?  I’m sorry if you don’t like it.”  She suddenly looked around the table, I could see the terror in her eyes.  “No!” she said softly like she was scared to death.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you.  I didn’t mean to yell.  I just…all day today it’s been…I’m…I just don’t understand anything!”  Her head bent down, and I saw tears falling from her eyes.

“Freak,” I said softly.  “It’s okay.  Don’t cry, please.  You didn’t upset us at all.  You didn’t do anything wrong at all.  It’s all good.  Please don’t cry.”

She looked up at me.  She stopped crying, but her head bent down toward her plate again.

“Eat your dinner,” I suggested softly.  “It’s all okay Freak.  I promise.”

I saw her pick up her fork again and take another bite of chicken.  I was looking around at everyone else at the table when I heard her softly say.  “It’s funny.  And I don’t know why.  But I kind of like the way Roxie says my name.  It’s not like everybody else.”

“How’s that?” I asked.

“My name is Freak, but she always says it…Freaky.  I don’t know why, but I kind of like it.”

“Would you rather we all called you Freaky instead of Freak?”

She shrugged.  “Why?  My name is Freak.”

Yeah, I was going to shoot someone.  Maybe a lot of someones!

After dinner, Amanda left and I took Freak into the spare bedroom.  “Do you want a pair of my pajamas to sleep in?” I asked.

“Pajamas?” she asked.

I realized immediately that she didn’t have a clue what they were.  “How about a nightgown instead.  Do you know what that is?”  Her face brightened.  “I’ve got one at home,” she said.  “I don’t always bother wearing it, especially when it’s cold out, but when it’s warm, it’s nice.  I’d wear it all the time in the summer if they let me.”

“I’ll get you a nightgown,” I told her.

“Um…” she said.

“Yes?”

“Um…  I’ve kind of got to pee again,” she said.

“You know where the bathroom is,” I told her.  “You don’t have to even ask.  Just go.”

She seemed disappointed.  “Which means I guess,” she said, “that you don’t have a proper pee hole outside.”

Pee hole?  “A what?”

“A pee hole where the girls are supposed to pee and poop.”

“We pee like we’re supposed to!” I said.  “In the bathroom.  In the toilet.  Where everyone, men and women both, are supposed to do it.  Not in some lousy hole outside.”  I got my frustrated anger under control.  “I’m sorry,” I told her.  “Please, just use the bathroom.  I’ll bring a nightgown to you there.”

Two minutes later, I pushed my way into the bathroom with one of my oldest gowns.  Somehow I knew it was probably far better than anything she had ever worn.  But the moment I got into the bathroom, I stopped and stared, not believing what I was seeing.  She was standing over the toilet seat, facing the wall.  The hem of her robe pulled up to her waist.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to figure out how to pee with this thing.”

“Stop!” I told her.  “Just turn around and sit down on it.  That’s how a lady pees.  Always!”

She seemed confused, but she turned around, pulled the robe she was wearing way up out of the way and sat down properly.  And peed.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  “See,” I said.  “Easy.  Right?”

She shrugged.  “So is my pee hole at home.  In fact, it’s easier.  I don’t even have to sit down.”

Something told me I wasn’t going to win that argument, but she had to learn.  I am not going to go into our discussion about using the toilet paper.  It seemed that toilet paper was another one of those things reserved just for men.  Which of those Jeskeys was I going to kill first?

I helped her remove her robe and get the nightgown on, which was a major effort due to all that hair.  Then I led her to the guestroom to sleep.

“Is it okay if I sleep over there?” she asked as she pointed to the floor just past the bed.

I was momentarily confused.  “What do you mean?”

“Where should I sleep?  Do you care?”

“Yes!  Yes I care,” I told her.  “Sleep in the bed!  Don’t you sleep in a bed at home?”

“Of course not,” she said.  “The guys have all the beds.  I’m only allowed to be in them for sex.”

“They don’t allow you to sleep in a bed?” I asked, not believing it.

“There aren’t any left.  Besides, I’m a girl.”

“You’re a girl, you’re a girl, you’re a girl!  Geez!”  We had to straighten out all these misconceptions she had.  I just didn’t know where to start.  Nor was it the time just then.  “Please,” I said.  “Please sleep in the bed.  You’ll love it.  I promise.  It’s got a real good mattress.”

She seemed skeptical, but she climbed up onto the bed and I helped get her hair arranged before I pulled the covers over her.  “Goodnight Freak,” I said as kindly to her as I could.  “Sleep…  Sleep like you’re in the best, happiest place possible.  Because you are.  Goodnight.”  I turned out the light and left her.

A little while later, just before getting into bed myself, I went back to check on her.  She was sound asleep, but not in the bed.  She had moved to the floor without a blanket or a pillow.  Her long hair was wrapped all around her body, and part of it formed a pillow for her head.  Seeing that, it struck me why she didn’t want her hair cut.  Believe it or not, all that hair was like her security blanket.  Having it surrounding her, or even just having it to hold or touch, comforted her.  Very quietly, I pulled a blanket off the bed and draped it over her.

I walked back to my own bed, wondering what the heck we needed to do to help that poor girl.  I was a social worker for the county.  Will was the county sheriff.  But I wasn’t sure that even between the two of us we could do anything for her at all.

Will was waiting for me in bed.  “Is she alright?” he asked.

“Sort of,” I told him.  “She moved to the floor, but she’s sound asleep.”  I saw him shake his head.

“Will,” I said.  “What did they do with the bodies?”

“Bodies?” he asked.

“Bo and his two sons.”

“They’re at the morgue of course.”

“Can I borrow your gun?”

“My gun?  What for?”

“So I can go there and shoot them!”

He laughed.  “Won’t do you any good.  They’re dead.  Remember?”

“Not dead enough!”