Suburban Payback Ch. 1

It was the first time in her life that Janice had smoked a joint. If she had been asked at the beginning of the evening if it were even a possibility, she would have declared an emphatic, "No". She couldn't blame Syl, her old college roommate. She hadn't planned it. They were just getting together for a rare girl's-night-out. They had a few margharitas, and then as they were in the elevator on the way up to Syl's room they had found it. It was Syl's idea to wear their old sorority sweatshirt, and she'd brought along the "utility bag", the purse that she had constantly carried throughout college. It was a huge thing, bulky and more like a duffel, and though the other girls had made fun of it, they were always glad when she was able to reach into it and come up with a tampon, or bottle of contact lens solution, or tube of lipstick, or a joint.

They were pawing through it, when they accidentally knocked the large cig out onto the burgundy carpet. "Oh my God" said Syl, sheepishly at first, then she grabbed it and ran toward her room as the elevator doors opened. Janice followed giggling. It felt good, youthful, something she hadn't experienced in the years since graduation that now were occupied with preschool, and the night courses to get her secondary degree. She had done a good job of juggling motherhood, wifedom as she called it, and her attempts at "remaining viable in the real world". So the evening had been a real treat. They were almost out of breath by the time they rushed into the hotel room. They had run like they had really done something. In spite of herself, and possibly because of the tequila in the drinks, she was beside herself with laughter. Maybe that was why she barely hesitated when Syl had mischievously looked at her and held up the joint and asked, "Shall we?"

"Why not?" she said.

From there time had flown. It was three hours gone when she realized. She had only thirty minutes before the sitter had to be home and her husband was out of town on a sales trip. She jumped up suddenly, surprised at the instability of her legs. Had she been thinking more clearly, she would not have attempted to drive, but she clarity was not something she could enjoy in any measure at that moment. The details of the drive home were a blur. She probably wouldn't have remembered a thing except for the sobering event that occurred just as she was making the long wide turn into the housing edition.

There had been a number of complaints about the homeless men that often camped in the small park across from the new tract homes that were springing up. They were always wandering out into the road and a number of them had been very nearly run down by self absorbed soccer moms distracted by screaming children in the backseat. Fortunately no one had been injured, not that is, until that night.

She barely saw him in the flash of the headlights just before hearing the awful sound of flesh on metal. She cut the wheel suddenly and careened across two lanes before her front fender crunched against the high median. It took a second before she recovered from the impact. When she looked out through the rear window of the SUV, all that she saw in the road was the torn Hefty bag that served as the homeless man's luggage. She knew that she had hit him. His absence could only mean that she had knocked him into the high weeds of the field. She was about to get out of the car to look for him when her cell phone began ringing. It was the babysitter. For some reason the voice of the girl brought her back to a sense of reality.

"Janice? Are you okay?" said the fifteen year-old Cynthia.

"Huh, yea I'm fine."

"Thank goodness. I thought you might have gotten into an accident. I was about to call the police."

"No, no." she said taking a last look around, "I'm just a little late in getting home."

Cynthia had said the magic word, police. She knew that she was in no condition to survive an encounter with a patrolman, even without the potential of vehicular homicide in the mix. It would mean humiliation, disgrace, and probably prison. She thought about her daughter and never seeing her again. The thought was too awful so she climbed back into the car before driving home.

The next morning when she awakened to a splitting headache, Janice felt like the whole episode had been a terrible grainy dream. She got up, and dressed and fed her daughter and drove her to school. She had not planned on being gone long so all she had done to herself was to slip on a sports bra, t shirt, and shorts. There was the dent in the front fender after all, that she felt incriminated her to the entire world. She wanted to get home and out of sight as quickly as she could. She was just driving up the street toward the cul de sac when the garage door of the house across the street opened. Suddenly the minivan of her least favorite neighbor, Renee, pulled out and came to a stop directly in front of he car. Janice slammed on the brakes and screeched to a halt just shy colliding with her. Renee stared at her through the window as if sizing her up. Something like a slight smile played across her lips and she opened the door.

There had been ill will between the two women for almost a year. It had all started at the first neighborhood association meeting that Janice attended. Renee was the planning committee chairperson and was at the height of her social best. She was wearing a simply elegant wraparound dress that played up her modest bosom and diminished her modestly overabundant backside. She had been drinking, and had become a little more catty than usual, which was saying something. There was raffle going on and as it was the least glamorous job, and Janice was the most beautiful, busty and blonde and thus the most threatening to Renee, she was given the task of running the tumbler. What ensued was purely an accident. Renee had just settled with her hips against the table as she faced the crowd to begin the proceedings. What neither she nor Janice realized was that a knotted strip the of dress' side tie was draped across the gear of the tumbler. When Janice flipped the switch it shredded the garment in front of the entire gathering. For Renee several personal disclosures were made in an instant. The first was that she wasn't wearing panties. The second was that she from the waist down she shaved everything. This brought a derisive gasp of laughter from the group. The third, and possibly most damaging secret uncovered, was that she was hopelessly flat-chested. As the top tore away with the rest of the dress two fleshy silicon "falsies" were ejected toward the audience. Renee was stark naked in front of the entire neighborhood, with a bald pussy and two a cup beasts open for their perusal. On the floor in front of her were the two manufactured mammaries.

"Gee," said the nearest woman, "I would have guessed it was her ass that was padded. My mistake."

The room erupted in laughter. Even Janice who felt badly for her was struck by the humor. She stopped laughing, however, when Renee turned toward her and the look on her face was one of a venomous rage. Without a word it promised unending enmity and ultimate revenge. In the months since they had skirmished often. Usually it was over matters of technicality. Renee complained when Janice's landscaping violated a tenet of the neighborhood code. She called the police when one of Janice's dinner party guest's vehicle narrowed the street too much. Janice had tried to mend the situation a few times, but Renee had made it clear that she wanted nothing short of a conflict.

This day of all days was not one that she wanted to have to deal with the bitch , she thought as Renee approached her vehicle. Renee had on a sweat suit, though when she had last worked out was anyone's guess. It was very New Jersey, she thought and fit her Italian looks. She had a short bobbed hair style and wore too much jewelry that to Janice seemed garish and overwhelming. She stepped up to the window and put a hand on her hip. For a second she seemed to sizing Janice up.

"Love what you've done with your hair." She said.

Janice had only bothered to clip it up on the back of her head in a loose ponytail. She looked bad she thought, though it was hard to negate the effects of her great facial structure.

"You know I've always wanted to ask if that is anywhere near your real color."

"Oh please." Said Janice "Look I'm really in no mood for this. I really don't have the time okay?"

"Need to get home and call your attorney, or maybe just a bailbondsman?"

Something in the way she was looking at Janice as she said it made her take a sharp involuntary breath. "I don't know what you are talking about." She said.

Renee smiled. "Well, judging from that dent in the front of your car and what I saw as I was driving into the addition last evening, I would say that you do. I'm pretty sure the authorities would agree with me too."

A long moment passed as the two of them stared at each other. Janice felt her world beginning to slip. She knew. Renee knew. The guilt and terror overcame her and her big brown eyes began to well up with tears. "I didn't mean to do it." Was all she could say.

Renee's face assumed a self-congratulatory smirk. What the blonde did not realize was that she had seen the whole thing and that the bum had not even been what the car hit. It was only his trash bag full of cans that had taken the impact. He had curried off into the field while Janice was stunned. She had watched as Janice wobbled out and could have smelled the whiff of pot and booze if she had been twice as far away. "Yea well, whatever you were on probably had something to do with it, but normally that doesn't impress a judge. And I'm sure I can speak for all of us in MADD in this neighborhood that we will be pretty happy to see you get the maximum that the law can sentence. "

" Oh God, please Renee. It was an accident. I did not mean to hit him."

Renee twisted her mouth into an expression of mock consideration. " "Vehicular homicide is a big deal in this state. I mean he may not have been much to you or me, but that homeless person was still, a person. I think I'd better turn you in." She reached into her purse and took out a cell phone.

Janice panicked. She could see the ruin, the incarceration. She began to beg. "Please Renee, I have a daughter. My going to jail won't bring that man back.. Please, I'll do anything. I'll pay."

It was music to her ears. "Well I don't know. I mean, he probably was a criminal himself. Still…. You did say anything?"

"Yes?" she said unclear about what Renee was suggesting. It soon became clear.

She leaned toward her. "I asked if that was your natural hair color."

" Uh, my hair? Yes."

" Oh really? Prove it."

"What?" asked Janice. She could not believe what Renee might be suggesting.

" You humiliated me in front of everyone. For the last year I've been the laughing stock of the neighborhood. That title is about to pass to you, hon. You want to stay out of jail, you are going to do any and every-thing I tell you. By the time I'm finished everyone is going to realize the danger of messing with me, and they are going to have a whole new appreciation of your little blonde ass. Now, about that proof….."

"What do you want?" asked Janice tearfully.

"I want to see if all of you is blonde."

"Are you gay?" asked Janice.

"God no, "laughed Renee, "just a bitch. A cruel, cruel bitch. Now get those shorts off."

Janice sighed and looked around. There was no way out. Fortunately the street seemed empty. Renee was smiling, still holding her cell phone. Janice lifted her hips and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts. She avoided eye contact with Renee. She simply could not stand to pull off her bottoms and see the look of triumph that she knew was on the woman's face.

She took a deep breath and pulled the shorts down. As the material cleared the neatly trimmed thatch of dark brown hair that stopped just shy of the top of the pair of clefted lips, she heard a giggle of delight.

" Not exactly a natural are we?" said Renee.

Janice had stopped with the shorts at mid-thigh. Renee, however was having none of that. "All the way off, two-tone. I want them in my hand. Janice removed the shorts and handed them out of the window. When she looked up Renee was dangling them off her index finger and smiling. In the distance behind her, the rattling trash truck was turning the corner. Janice gasped. She had forgotten it was pickup day. The sound caused Renee to turn and look. When she turned back to Janice her smile was even wider.