Chapter 6, a little bit of history!

Chapter 6

1958

Fifty years ago, in a small town in the foothills of the Ozarks, Jane Matthews was feeding the chickens.  She had already weeded the vegetable garden, pulled in the washing off the line, and put the dinner on to cook.  It was only a matter of time before her husband Howard would come in from working in the store, put his hat on the rack, wash his hands, and sit down at the table for his dinner.

There were three different Arkansas back then.  There was the swampy flat lands where mosquitoes swarmed, blackening your arms and face before leaving them with the red itchy welts that lasted for a week.  Rice grew there, and ducks flew there, and hunters shot and killed those ducks, well fed on rice and mosquitoes, probably, and folks all over Arkansas ate those fat ducks when they could get one.

There was the Little Rock Arkansas, with its high curbs, brick buildings, and a teachers’ college.  Jane had gone there, and had her teacher’s certificate from there.  Folks were mighty narrow-minded for  sophisticated City folk, and judged anyone and everyone.  You might think a small town would be worse, but there was no place more judgmental, at least in Jane’s eyes, than Little Rock.  And she had good reason to know.

Then there was the Ozarks.  The prettiest part of all of Arkansas, the mountains rose up out of the flat swamps, cooling the air, and leaving the hellacious mosquitoes behind.  There were green trees, flowers, rocks, and sweet little towns where folks minded their own business, and spoke kindly of their neighbors.  Jane taught third and fourth grade in a school that served two of those towns, and had a home with a vegetable garden and a chicken yard on the outskirts of one of them.

Most people, white people and colored people too, as they said then, had vegetable gardens, some had chickens, too.  You didn’t eat meat every day, but you could have a nice egg omelet with your vegetables, and chicken or duck every Sunday of the year after Church if you wanted to.  Jane liked it there, and she liked her chickens, her vegetables, her school, and her husband.  And most of all, she loved her son, Ezekiel, now a strapping boy of ten, who made her life worthwhile. 

In the Ozarks, no one counted backwards to see if your little boy was started before or after the preacher blessed your union.  Babies were sacred, and fathers were dear, dear men to have around, and chasing either one away would have been a crying shame.  So folks just let you be.

Jane finished scattering the feed and was ready to turn in to the house, check on the vegetables simmering gently in the pork broth, when something bright caught her eye.  Some of that mica from the mountain rocks, no doubt.  Jane had learned a little about geology at teachers’ college, just in case she was called upon to teach a little science, and she knew that rocks sometimes had quartz, or mica, or other bright specks. Little pebbles were actually good for chickens, or so they said, it helped them digest their food, so Jane was ready to leave it be.  But this looked like it could be a piece of glass, and that could cut up a chicken’s gullet like nobody’s business, so Jane went back out into the yard. 

The hen flapped at Jane, telling her to stay away from the prize, but Jane flapped her apron right back at the hen.  A bit of squawking and the hen realized she’d been out-flapped, and yielded the territory.  Jane bent down and picked up the piece of glass.  It sparkled like nothing she had ever seen before in her whole life.  It was unbelievable.  She turned it over in her hand, staring. 

Jane had heard tales of diamonds in the Ozarks, but no one really believed the stories.  Her hand got wet holding the stone.  It was huge.  It wasn’t cut like the diamonds in the engagement rings she’d seen in Little Rock, engagement rings that she and Howard had only glanced at, sheepishly, when it was already too late for a ring.  This rock was big, about the size of a robin’s egg, sort of oval in shape, a little rough at the edges.  If it was really a diamond, it was enormous.

Jane was still turning the rock over in her hand when the front door clacked.  “Mom!  Mom!”  Zeke was hollering.  Jane slipped the stone into her apron pocket.

“Guess what?”  Zeke’s blond hair fell straight down into his face, his pink cheeks ruddier than usual.  “Guess what?”

“What?” Jane said, quickly walking into the house.

“They’re gonna have planes come, and Army guys, and they’re gonna have a show for the people with the planes!”

“Really?” Jane said.  She’d heard something about that at the school, but no one really knew much about the plan.

“Yep.  There’s gonna be stunt flying, and rides, and everything!” 

“Well, that’s great, Zeke.  Guess you’re going to want to go, huh?”

“You bet, Mom.  And it’s gonna be free, too.”

“I should hope so, son,” Howard’s voice came from behind them.  “After all, it’s your government, and your army, and your planes.  And don’t you forget it.  Everything that the government owns belongs to you.”

“Hi, pops,” Zeke said, holding out his hand.  Howard shook it.  They had done that every day for years. 

“Wash up, dinner’s ready,” Jane said, fingering the rock in her apron pocket.  She would wait until Zeke had gone to bed before showing Howard her find.  

ready to rock!

Chapter 5 is ready to rock! It's a little longer, to keep you enjoying the story until I'm back from vacation. Enjoy!

                                    Chapter 5

Vanessa sat in her car outside the lawyer’s office.  The warmth of the afternoon made her dress stick to her body, and she longed to take it off.  Silk was supposed to be comfortable in the heat, but every bead of sweat stained it, and as it got damp it stuck obscenely between her legs.

 The lawyer had refused to let her stay in his office while he was in court.  It was strange.  She had expected a high-rise building, with a receptionist, a secretary, and young lawyers like you saw on LA Law on t.v.  But here, it was a three storey building, with doors off the corridor, into single offices.  Not very romantic, or businesslike, either.  Sort of cheesy. 

But once she had gotten into the lawyer’s office, everything had changed.  She thought back to the décor, which spoke of money and taste.  His oak desk was massive, and his leather chair well designed and upholstered.  There was thick green carpeting, and several designer client chairs.  A small alcove off the office had a second desk, a computer, pictures of two attractive kids, and oddly enough, a large, filagree-framed mirror.  A sculpture of that blind justice lady sat on his desk.  No pictures of a wife.

On the walls, Attorney Samuelson had original art in impeccable, if slightly bland, taste, except for one unusual painting of a street scene, vibrant, intoxicating and notable.  Running along the back wall was a sofa.  Thank goodness for that.

Vanessa searched her memory until she was able to recall that the women’s rest room had been down the hall from Samuelson’s office, on the right hand side.  She needed to pee, and the more she thought about that fact, the more urgent it became.  She looked around, and seeing no one, she opened her car door.  Walking quickly but fluidly, to avoid any on-looker’s notice, she made her way back to the building.  Samuelson had been on the third floor, and she had taken an elevator when she had arrived.  The elevator had been slow, and in her anxiety, it seemed that it had taken several minutes to navigate from the lobby to Attorney Samuelson’s office.   This time she saw that there were stairs, broad and inviting, curving up from the far end of the lobby.  She headed that way.  The call of nature was becoming irresistible.

Vanessa turned right at the top of the stairs.  But the hall seemed to end too soon, and there was neither rest-room nor the office she had left twenty minutes before.  She turned around and hurried back the other way.  It occurred to her that the rest-room would be locked.  What would she do then?  Having thought she was near relief, her need had become intolerable.  She would have to knock on one of these other doors and beg for a key.  If only she could find the room.

Vanessa rushed heedlessly down the hall, no longer taking care to move purposefully but invisibly.  Anyone opening an office door would see and remember her, but at this point she no longer cared.  At last, she found the door with the circle and the figure with the dress.  Pushing it, she was beyond joy to find that the door opened.  She had her dress up by her waist before the door had even closed, and she found herself moaning with relief as she let loose. 

Patting herself dry, she stood to pull up her black lace thong.  She had carefully chosen it for its visual appeal, in furtherance of her plan for the attorney.  As she adjusted the elastic it caught on her long, red fingernail.  Annoyed, she tried to shake it loose, but it wouldn’t come free.  Not wanting to break a nail, she pulled the thong off past her ankles, and held it up to undo the snag.  Just at the moment it came free, the door opened.  She had not even thought to throw the bolt.  She froze, dress hiked up and her panties, such as they were, in her hands.

The two men in dark suits were on either side of her.  One put his hand over her mouth, the other pulled her hands behind her.  “Thanks for the show, Vanessa.  Or, the overture, anyway.”  She struggled against their grip, but she knew immediately that it was useless. 

“You’re lucky, Vanessa.  Mitch here wanted to nab you while you were dashing around the hall.  I let you pee first.  Didn’t want you to mess up my van!”  Derek smiled.  He was very, very handsome, and he knew it.  His black hair, dark eyes, and lanky, loose-limbed body, sheathed in the expensive dark summer weight wool suit, turned heads on the street.  He had a lovely smile, white teeth, and a strong but not melodramatic chin.  He pulled Vanessa’s hands higher behind her back. 

Mitch was not ugly either.  Older than Derek, perhaps forty, he had sandy hair gone pale, and narrow blue eyes.  His enormous hand covered Vanessa’s mouth and face easily.  He prided himself on being a lot smarter than Derek, and a lot more powerful.  But he liked working with Derek.  The ladies liked Derek, and the gentlemen did too.  And so did Mitch.  “Lets get out of here, folks, before some poor unsuspecting gal walks in.” 

Mitch pushed the door open with his free hand and the two men escorted Vanessa out into the hall.  As they were passing the first office door, Vanessa flung herself hard into Derek, and twisted away from Mitch.  “Damn it,” Derek said, lunging for her.  She opened her mouth to scream.  Anything to get someone’s attention in one of these offices.  But before the first sound could come out of her mouth, a rag was stuffed into it. 

Vanessa tried to spit it out.  Derek had hold of her hands again, this time in an iron grip that there was no escaping.  The cloth tasted foul, of gasoline or alcohol, and Vanessa gagged as she tried to rid herself of it.  Mitch chuckled.

“Four seconds, Vanessa.  Three, two, one.” 

*                     *                  *

Vanessa slumped over in a faint, the chloroform having worked its magic.  The two thugs lifted her quickly into the stairwell, and rushed her down the steps.  Looking for observers and seeing none, they slipped her into the back of the van they had waiting at the door. 

“Wow, Mitch.  Good thinking on the knock out cloth.  I would never have thought to bring it.”  Derek smiled happily at Mitch.

“Well, buddy, it was just a regular precaution,” Mitch said, his hand on Derek’s shoulder.  Mitch kept his hand there, just a moment longer, enjoying the feeling of those hard muscles under the suit.

Derek nodded appreciatively, then turned his attention to their prey.  He liked Mitch just fine, and he was used to the fact that men and women loved to look at him, touch him, and want him.  If he would have swung that way, Mitch would have been a mighty attractive gentleman.  But as it was, he couldn’t wait to get the clothes off of the beautiful Vanessa. 

He had seen Vanessa at the casino every day for six months, and every day he imagined her naked.  He wasn’t particularly predatory, he just entertained himself as he walked his security rounds, thinking of Vanessa naked, on the floor of the casino, or on his bed, or in the back of his van.  Which was where she was now.  Still clothed, of course, but as she regained consciousness, he would see to it that the clothes were shed.  But he wanted her awake.  He wasn’t into necrophilia. 

And besides, his instructions had been very clear.  Deliver her, nude, by four o’clock.  He could do what he wanted before then, but he had to use a condom.  And no bruises, marks, cuts, or other damage.  Wow.  It had been really smart of Mitch to bring the drug.  She would be a lot more compliant that way. 

                  *                  *                  *

Vanessa tried to open her big green eyes, but they felt too heavy.  They’d gotten her.  She was helpless.  It was all over.  She felt hands on her, as her dress was opened at the deep V.  She should resist.  Make them fight her.  But to what end?  At least they were good looking.  She sighed. 

“Wake up, Vanessa.”  She felt the sting of a slap on her cheek.  Furious, her eyes snapped open.  She quickly closed them again, but not before Derek had seen her react.

“Stop it, Mitch!  We’re not supposed to hurt her!” 

“That’s not going to hurt her.  And besides, we want her awake.  I don’t know about you, Derek, but there’s more fun to be had here than watching you screw a limp broad.”

“Like what?”  Derek sounded confused.  Vanessa opened her eyes a slit.  Derek was kneeling over her, his hands on her dress, ready to pull it apart.  She could not see Mitch, but he had to be near her face, since evidently he was the one who had slapped her.

“She knows where the money is, Derek.  Maybe she’ll be willing to help us out a bit, you know, in exchange for nicer treatment.”

Derek looked astonished.  “You’d betray Mike?”

Vanessa held herself very, very still.  If Mitch realized she had heard, and Derek didn’t go along with him, she would be in a lot worse danger than unwanted sex with Derek, with Mike, and God only knows, maybe Mitch too.  No, she would be in for far worse.  She would be fried chicken.