Rag Doll Ch. 01

"Mother...Mom, I need to sort out a job, what do I need to do to enter the job market?"

Mum poked her head out from the kitchen.

"Don't worry honey, once you've settled in we'll go down to the Social Security Administration, get your Social Security number issued, then we'll have to go over to the Department of Labor, get your qualifications assessed. If you got them from a college in England, then it should be accredited, then the next step is to actually find a job. That's when the fun starts!"

I sat down gingerly; the drive had aggravated all my cuts and bruises, and mum noticed.

"Baby, take off your shirt, I want to look at your back!"

She appeared with a bottle of something and some cotton wool. I carefully took off my jacket and shirt, as the cuts had been bleeding, and my shirt had stuck to me in places. I took it off and whistled at the amount of blood caked on the inside of it, before wondering what my back looked like.

"OK baby, face away from me!" said mum, and again she hissed as she saw my back. "Oh Jesus, what a mess!"

"What does it look like?" I asked, and she replied, "Not good, but it'll clean up. Now this is going to sting a little, can't be helped, I have to clean this up, so yell if you have to!"

She wasn't joking when she said it was going to sting; it felt like I was being branded, and she kept dropping bloody swatches of cotton wool into the waste bin at my feet, muttering and cursing under her breath all the while.

"OK Nicky, all done, go put on a loose shirt, and don't lean back against anything, and tonight, sleep on your front. Now, are you hungry?"

Mom had put on a lovely thick beef stew, hot and filling. I'd not eaten anything since lunch the day before and I hadn't realised how ravenous I was, and she just kept filling my plate. I'd never eaten so well or so much; my father believed in moderation in all things, so meals tended to be frugal and uninteresting, cheap ingredients and minimal cooking to save fuel costs.

When we finished, I helped her clear up and wash-up, and she looked at my back again, as blood was still seeping through my shirt, and as I pulled my shirt off over my head a voice behind me said "Hi mom, what's for din...Holy shit, what the fuck happened to you?" I whirled around and the girl standing there hissed like Mom. "What the fuck did that to you?" she gasped.

"Ashley!" snapped mum, "I told you about language like that!"

Ashley stared at me. "Mom, who's this, and what's he doing half-naked in our house?"

Mum sat her down. "Ashley, meet Nicky Davies...my son. Nicky, this is my daughter, Ashley, your sister."

Ashley stared at me, her eyes widening and her mouth forming an 'O' of shock. "The boy you told me about, the one who disappeared? How did he...I mean...?"

Mom held my hand. "Nicky found out about me two days ago, he's been living in England, his father took him there, never told him about me, so he when he found out, he came home!" she was crying now.

"Mom, look at him! He looks like he's been horse-whipped! What the hell happened to him?"

I spoke up. "My father decided to beat up his wife, my step-mother, I tried to stop him, and..."

Ashley looked at me, eyes welling up. "Dear God, your father did this?" she whispered, "What about her, what happened to her?"

I was having a real problem getting the words out now"She tried to protect me, but we both got a beating anyway. She gave me the information about Mom, took me to the train station, and that's the last time I saw her alive; she got me out of there, and then she killed herself, it was all over the news when I got to the airport. That's what my father made her do." Tears were running down my face now, as I relived the guilt and shame. "I should have tried harder to bring her with me, get her out of there; if I had, she'd be alive now, it's my fault she killed herself, I should have made her come with me, I should have dragged her away...!"

Ashley took my hand, hugged me. "No, not true, you tried, but she wanted to do that, she wanted to escape, and you couldn't have stopped her; at least she helped you escape, at least she got you out of there first!"

All I wanted to do was sit in a corner and cry, too much had happened in the last 48 hours, and I was still processing where I was, who I was with, the emotional pummelling of the last couple of days finally caught up with me, I saw the floor rise up and that was all I remembered.

+++

When I awoke, the sunlight coming in the window had that fresh brightness that said 'early morning' and when I checked my watch I saw it was indeed just after 7am. I could smell coffee, and that more than anything else woke me up. I seemed to be in a girl's bedroom, frilly and pink were the general tone of the place, and I'd been lying on a sheet, probably placed there to prevent me bleeding all over the bedding; it was blood-smeared, but not as much as my shirt had been, so perhaps the bleeding had stopped now. I was in just my shorts, so someone had brought me in here and undressed me. Finding my jeans and shoes, I slipped them on and went to find the coffee.

I found Ashley curled up on the couch in the living room, looking massively cute in baggy pyjamas, watching cartoons with a big mug of coffee. She grinned at me "Hi Nick, you want a coffee? We haven't any tea, you know, and I know that's what you Brits like first thing, eh what, what?" she teased. "Love the accent, by the way!"

I grinned at her. "I'm not English, I'm an American, just like you; I was born in St Peter's, right here in Albany, although I only found that out a couple of days ago!"

Ashley smiled back. She really was stunning, mid-length, light coppery auburn hair in a casual twist over her shoulder, smoky green eyes, clear, fair skin with just a dusting of freckles across her small snub nose, and a rosebud mouth with rosy pink full lips, and from what I remembered from yesterday, a slim, lithe figure. "See anything you like?" she asked me in a teasing tone, and I realised I'd been assessing the hottie-quotient of my own little sister.

My face and ears felt hot, clear evidence I was blushing, and her grin grew even wider.

"Mom says you're some kind of hot-shot mechanic; think you can do anything with that shit-heap parked out front?"

Her smile was challenging, and I grinned.

"I can try. Mother...Mom said there's tools and stuff in the garage, can I use them?"

"I don't know, can you?" she grinned back, so I poured myself a coffee and went to see what was there. I was pleasantly surprised to see a proper mechanics tool-chest, fully stocked with everything I would need, and a rack full of spares for the LeSabre; obviously Mom's late husband had been planning a major overhaul of the car before he'd passed away.

I started the car and listened to the various groans, clanks, wheezes and rattles, mentally made a list of what I thought needed doing, and made a start on that lovely classic 3800 V6 engine, working methodically, logically, as I had been taught, addressing each issue in sequence. I worked happily, stopping now and then to chug down the coffee Mom or Ashley brought out to me, until I felt I'd gone as far as I could without a complete shop and pit. Mom came out and leaned on the car, looking closely at me.

"Would you like something to eat, honey, you've only been out here for nine hours!" she grinned, and I gaped; I was so lost in playing with this classic that the time had just run away from me.

"I think I'm about done. The silencer, I mean muffler needs replacing, I'll get one ordered, tomorrow I want to replace the brake pads, so I'll need her for a couple of hours, if possible, and the air-con needs re-gassing, so I'll have to find somewhere to get that done, but other than that, she should be roadworthy. Want to try her?"

She jumped in and started her up, no clonking or timing misfires, no wheezing, and when she pulled away, she did so without hitching or stalling. I love big lazy V6 engines, but hardly ever got to work on them in England, the cost of fuel there is so high that V6's & V8's are just too expensive to run.

Mom came back around the corner, parked up and slid out. "Honey, I think you just earned a special dinner tonight, what do you want?" she grinned.

"Dinner's on me Mom, you tell me where you want to go!" I still had more than $11,000 burning a hole in my pocket, and I wanted to treat my new-found family.

Ashley ambled on out. "How'd he do, Mom, did he get this shit-box off death-row?" she smiled, and Mom, tweaked my ear.

"That he did, Ashley, you have a very talented big brother!"

Ashley leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. "Thanks, Nicky, we depend on that car, and you really made a difference!"

My cheek burned where she'd kissed me, and I felt a frisson pass through me. I think she did too, because her eyes widened for a second, and she blushed prettily before turning away in confusion.

She tugged me back inside, and I have to admit, my eyes were fixed on her lovely rump, cute and round and shapely in her sprayed-on jeans, and the way she swayed as she moved, her cheeks switching as she walked, was truly entrancing. I washed-up with the can of mechanic's soap I found in the garage, and slumped down on the couch.

I barley saw Ashley for the rest of the day – she seemed to be occupied in her room, and so Mom and I chatted around sandwiches about my life in England, school and college, which caused some confusion at first. Americans seem to equate 'college' with 'university', whereas in the UK, there are Technical Colleges, and Universities, each completely different from the other. Technical Colleges teach craft skills, universities are more academic than anything. I ended up explaining my qualifications, or trying to, until Mom held up her hands in surrender. "Let the people at the Employment Office work it out, Nick, you lost me with all the British talk!" she laughed.

Eventually I dozed, waking when Ashley sat down on the couch next me and flicked on the TV.

I tried to make conversation. "So Ashley, do you have a boyfriend or fiance?" and her face flushed. "No, nothing like that."

I persisted. "I find that hard to believe. I hope you won't think this is weird, but I think you're a beautiful girl, you should be fighting them off..."

The expression on her face was unreadable, but her voice was steady. "I said no. There's no-one around here for me. Just let it drop, Nicky!"

I thought that was a most peculiar statement for such a hot girl, and looked curiously at her. "What's the problem, Ashley, I'm just trying to understand why a girl who looks like you should feel so unwanted!"

She came and sat on the chair opposite me. "OK, you want to know why, I'll tell you why. This is a wealthy neighborhood, do we look rich? This house is the wrong side of the tracks, I'm from the wrong side of the tracks, and as far as the neighbors are concerned, we're one step away from trailer-trash. My daddy was ill for a very long time, and all our money went for his treatment until we had none left, and then everything else went, until this was all that was left and this is how we have to live. We used to be part of this neighborhood, until we lost everything, now we're nobody, just a fucking embarrassment, disturbing their perfect, Martha Stewart, white picket-fence lives, so they don't see us, they just wish we'd go away. When I went to my junior Prom, Mom bought me a dress from a thrift shop, took it in, sewed sequins and changed the hem, added pieces on, made it look really nice, but one of the other girls recognized it as a dress she'd given to Thrift, she told everyone, and they all laughed at me, everyone laughed at me, even the chaperones. They called me Rag-Doll, Dumpster-Diver, Raggedy-Ann, they hurt me, and they laughed at me; for years I had no friends in High School, no-one wanted to be seen with Rag-Doll, even now the only friends I have are the other outcasts and losers. You may have been born here, but you're not from here, and you don't understand what this is about, that anyone can do what they like to me, so no, Nicky, there's no-one in this fucking town for me, OK, did you get that, can I go now?"

She was furious, and I mentally kicked myself for making her tell me about something that obviously hurt her deeply. She stood up and stalked out of the room and into her bedroom, the door slamming behind her.

"You had no way of knowing, Nicky." said Mom behind me, and I spun round to see her looking sad. "When she was little, she had everything, and she saw it all go, and she couldn't understand why no more vacations, no more Birthday and Christmas parties, no more sleep-over's, no more pool parties at her friends' houses. After her father got sick, his business failed, and our savings, insurance, everything, ran out, and I had to go back to work just so we could eat; Ashley knows I'm the only mother in the neighborhood who actually needs to work, and all I could find is a part-time job, so we live the best way we can. This house never used to be like this, but with no money to keep it up, well...

When you used to be somebody, it's a real shock to find out what the bottom of the tree really looks like, and it's been hard on her. Her High School days should have been the best time of her life, instead it was a nightmare for her, and it's my fault. I just wanted her to have just one nice thing, some nice memories after her father got so sick, but it all went so wrong, and you just got the edge of it; I'm sorry, Nicky."

I felt like shit. All I wanted to do was compliment my frankly gorgeous sister, and instead I'd raked up a past she was desperately trying to forget.

Mom came closer, kissed me gently on the cheek. "I think you need to eat something before you fall over, so go and get Ashley, she'll be OK in a minute, and let's go find someplace good for dinner!"

I smiled and went to Ashley's door, knocked gently. "Ashley, it's me, Nicky. If I ask you nicely, will you have dinner with me, please?"

I heard some faint noises from inside and then her door opened, her eyes reddened where she'd obviously been crying. I wanted to say something first, though.

"Ashley, I'm sorry for pushing like that, I had no business prying, or upsetting you. I'm sorry, please forgive me, I won't do that again. Please have dinner with me, let me apologize for upsetting you."

She smiled back at me. "Nicky, I'm sorry, you didn't know, how could you? I would love to have dinner with you, you smooth-talking Englishman you! Where are you taking me?"

I smiled. "It's your choice, anyplace you like, sky's the limit, besides, it's not like I actually know any good places here!"

"Italian?"

"Italian!" I agreed, and so we rejoined Mom, Ashley with her arm through mine.

"Mom, we're going to DaVinci's, Nicky wants to eat Italian, and it's been too long since I had Osso Buco Milanese, so let's go!"

Mom drove across town, and I was pleased to note the car seemed to be humming like a top. We went into what looked like a very popular Trattoria, were seated and placed our orders, and drank soda's while we waited for our meal. Mom excused herself, and Ashley and I were talking when she paled. "Oh no," she breathed, "Monica Delucci, of all the people to walk in, it had to be her!" I asked her why, and Ashley told me she was the one who nicknamed her 'Rag-Doll'.

"Quick, Nicky, pretend you're my boyfriend, please, just do it now!" I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, but she squirmed around and kissed me on the lips, her hands on either side of my face.

"Well looky here, Raggedy-Ann got herself a boyfriend!" said the blowsy looking, piggy-eyed chubby girl approaching our table with a malicious grin pasted on her doughy face.

I decided that now was the time to be Über-English, and in my best phony Hugh Grant accent said to Ashley "Who is this...person, Darling Girl, and why is she dressed so badly, surely mirrors are available absolutely everywhere – is she doing it for a dare?"

Monica flushed, while the people at the adjacent table grinned broadly.

She tried gamely to recover; "So who's the Englishman then, Raggedy-Ann?", and I decided to go for the throat.

"Really, Ashley, Darling, I thought you had better taste in friends. How very boorish, to interrupt us at dinner like this! Whoever you are, young woman... if indeed, you are a woman...please go away, you're disturbing me; after all, I don't turn off the Red Light when you're working!" The people at the next table burst out laughing, and the blowsy girl flushed, going scarlet when I spoke in a piercing aside to Ashley "and such dreadfully bad taste in clothes, really, doesn't she know people can see her, is she colour-blind...?"

Monica waddled off, half the people in the restaurant grinning broadly at her, and Ashley spun in her seat and hugged me. "Oh God, Nicky, that was so cool, thank you for squashing that bitch, she's had it coming for years!" Before I knew it, she'd kissed me again, only this time she slid her tongue between my lips and against mine, holding the back of my head, kissing me just slightly longer than would be proper for a sisterly kiss, and as for the tongue thing...

She broke and stared at me as I stared at her, then she slowly smiled and licked her lips, and hugged me again. "I think I'm going to like having my big brother around!" she whispered in my ear, before lightly licking my earlobe and giving me a minxy grin.

Just then Mom turned up, and seated herself. "You both look extremely pleased with yourselves, did something happen? Come on, what have I missed?"

Ashley's eyes danced with glee. "That fat bitch Monica Delucci tried to put me down and Nicky squashed her; he went all English on her, and shut down her fat face properly, the whole place was laughing at her!"

Mom grinned at me and took my hand. "Thank you Nicky, I knew you'd be good for Ashley!"

I smiled at Ashley. "Nobody puts my kid sister down, not while I'm around!"

Just then dinner arrived, and we set to. I hadn't realised just how ravenous I was until that slab of lasagne was slid in front of me, and it tasted divine. Even with all his money, my father had seldom splashed out on treats like this, so I had only ever eaten the sad and dejected lasagne they served in the school cafeterias; now, to eat the real thing, it was just amazing, the different tastes and textures like nothing I had ever eaten before.

Ashley smiled at me. "That good, huh?" as I forked it into my mouth, chasing the last of the sauce with a piece of cornbread, convinced I'd died and gone to heaven.

Mom leaned back, her Spaghetti Carbonara just a distant memory. "Thank you, Nicky; I can't remember the last time we ate out, this is a meal we'll remember for a long time."

I cocked an eye at her. "Mom, if I can get a job, I'll take you to dinner at least once a week, that's a promise!"

She smiled. "Ooh, I might just hold you to that, Nicky! I could get used to this!"

We sat and chatted some more, and then Mom pushed her chair away. "Well, kids, we have to call it a night, I have work in the morning, so why don't we head home and get some rest? You've had a long day, Nicky; you look about done-in."

The waiter brought our bill, and I settled up, and we headed back home, Ashley electing to ride in the back with me, her hand in mine and her head resting against my shoulder, snuggled up against me.

When we got home, Mom showed me to my room, sparsely furnished with a box spring and frame bed and a small closet, which was fine because all I owned in the world was in my holdall, so I had no pressing need for closet space. I kissed Mom good night, and she went of to her room. I was just putting my things away when I heard my door opening, and there stood Ashley, wearing a long T-shirt and baggy pyjama bottoms.