Allyson Ch. 05

John visibly withered, but tried again, "I...I don't..."

Jeremy pushed back his chair stood up and faced him, "We may elect mostly Democrats out here Bennett, but we're a conservative town. You get cute. Try to fight me, and I'll destroy you."

John sat immobile. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Jeremy walked around his desk. He was nearly three times as old as the bastard in front of him, but he knew he was still at least twice the man, "I'm running out of patience you little shit. How would you like it if I took a fishing rod to you?"

John got up and started to back away, "I...I don't know..."

Jeremy stalked him across the office.

John backed away.

Jeremy was right handed. Everybody knew it. Today he balled his left hand up in a fist, and in one swift move hurled a powerful overhead shot down of John's nose. He flattened it in one stroke. He moved toward the younger man with both fists raised high.

John Bennett, peerless woman beater, grabbed his nose. Big juicy tears were running down his cheeks. He'd lost his bowels. He'd shit his pants! He turned and sped for the door.

As he ran out Jeremy shouted, "Files on my secretary's desk in five minutes, and you out of town by tonight."

John Bennett cried as he ran down the hall to his office. He hurriedly yanked out the files in his cabinet. He threw them on his desk. Pulled on his overcoat, rushed back down the hall, blood by then discoloring his crisply starched white shirt and new Herring bone sport coat; he dropped the files on the secretary's desk and made for the parking lot. As he ran he thought God damn Allyson, but he knew it was over.

Jeremy sat down in the chair Bennett had just vacated. Breathing heavily he placed both hands on his knees, leaned forward and started to cry. He wasn't hurt. He wasn't sad. In fact he felt quite good. It was just the end of an adrenaline rush, a normal reaction to a powerful set of emotions. He thought; how could a man, any man, beat on a woman? He picked up the phone and dialed Bennett's house. He decided to call Hannah, and warn her John was on his way home. John was a coward. What he did to one woman he could certainly do to another. When he got her on the phone he warned her. He told her she should leave. Where she went he didn't care, but she should get out of that house.

By the time John reached his house Hannah was long gone; well on her way back to Los Angeles.

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Audra sat comfortably in the lazy boy. Between cat naps she watched the young woman in bed. The antibiotics the doctors had given her had been both for the lacerations and for a low grade temperature they guessed she'd been carrying since the beating.

Around 2:00 p.m. Audra noticed the girl's sleep got more restless. She could tell she was dreaming. Whether it was the medicines she been given, her feverish state, her recent beating, or some childhood memories Audra couldn't know, but she saw the woman was in a tormented state. As she grew more restless, she tossed and turned in more erratic and more violent ways. She cried, and murmured in a soft pleading voice.

Audra listened with increased concern. The fevered mutterings became increasingly childlike. Audra knew it wasn't the woman in bed who was pleading. It was a little girl; some poor innocent helpless little girl from out of the past pleading, begging for pity.

She listened with heart wrenching empathy the sounds of a child, "Oh please stop. No more please. Don't hurt me. Not, please not the belt! I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Please I'm just a little girl. No please. Not Iodine! Don't put Iodine on them. I'll be good. I promise! I'll be good..."

Audra was in tears. It was heartbreaking. How could people be so cruel? What suffering this poor creature must have gone through? What kind of childhood, what kind of life had she suffered?

She went over and climbed in the bed beside her. She cradled the poor woman in her arms. She whispered softly, "There now, don't cry. It's all right. Don't cry. I'm here. Don't be afraid."

Slowly the tears stopped, the crying faded, and the woman's plaintiff whiimperings drifted into a soft steady sleep. Audra vowed this woman, this poor girl, would never have to suffer through anything like what she'd experienced ever again. She'd see to it.

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A little after 4:00 p.m. Lauren and Ariel found their way back to the Hanson's. They had a car loaded with new clothes. They quietly climbed the stairs and opened the door to Paul's room where they found Allyson sound asleep swaddled snugly in Mrs. Hanson's arms.

Lauren whispered, "Well she's found another one."

Ariel brushed back a tear, "That woman's a saint."

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Jeremy got home a little after Ariel and Lauren. He found the girls in the family room watching television. After a brief conversation about what they'd bought and what they'd discovered in Paul's room he went upstairs and found the same thing. He quietly nudged his wife, "Audra."

Audra opened one eye, "I'm not asleep."

He whispered, "Ariel and Lauren are downstairs. They've got several bags piled up in the family room. You want to go down and see?"

Audra slipped away from the sleeping girl, "Keep an eye on her. She's feverish, and talks sometimes."

He smiled, "I've got her. You go on down."

Audra got up, "You took care of the other matter?"

"Yeah they're both gone."

She gave him a satisfied nod and left the room.

Jeremy took up his post in the lazy boy. He watched the girl in her son's bed. She looked so helpless, so innocent. She had a waifish look about her. She looked so small, delicate even. His instincts told him this was a good girl.

It wasn't long before Allyson was murmuring and weeping again. He tried to hear what she said. It was hard, but he got the gist of what must have been running through her mind.

Mixed with what he thought sounded like a young girl's pleas for tolerance, and repeated entreaties to John to stop hitting her, he heard his son's name. It was gut wrenching and rewarding at the same time. John and somebody kept hurting her, but whenever Paul was mentioned she sounded reassured, relieved even.

Listening to her he hadn't realized how much she'd gone through. That was bad, awful bad. But then too he hadn't realized how big a role his son had played in her well being. Whenever Paul's name came up her fevered ramblings sounded hopeful, even confident.

God he hoped her unconscious confidence in his son affirmed itself when she awakened. It occurred to him his son had literally saved her life. Would she remember? Would she respond? He knew people were funny. What was the old adage; no good deed ever goes unpunished. Would she embrace the boy who saved her, or would she push him away?

He wanted his son to be happy. At the moment Paul was desperate to have her love, but he was young. Then again Paul wasn't any younger than he was when he met Audra. Regardless, Jeremy knew she was in more than just physical trouble. She'd need some sort of counseling, and certainly a lot of T.L.C. Would she stand still for their support? He'd seen the look in his wife's eyes. She wanted to take care of this woman. Would the woman allow it?

Paul had put her on some kind of pedestal. Was she worth it? Only time would tell.

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Paul and his brothers hitched their small runabout to the back of the late model SUV Wayne owned. It was a small one as sport utility vehicles went; a 1994 Chevrolet S-10 Blazer. He'd bought it used with money he'd saved.

Paul reflected on how their father wasn't one to just hand things out. Big ticket items like cars or boats had to be acquired the hard way. But dad didn't stint when it came to insurances or repairs.

The boys were accustomed to watching their father check tires for wear, or periodically get behind the wheel of a vehicle to see if the breaks or steering worked properly. If his dad didn't like the way something handled he'd get it fixed; then he'd politely leave the bill on one of their bureaus, that was if the bill wasn't exorbitant. That didn't mean they got off easy though. If something was wrong and he'd noticed and commented on it and nothing was done he was quick to lower the boom.

Paul loved his father. His brothers did too. He was a hell of a guy. If any of them did something wrong, stepped out of line, or Heaven forbid, back sassed their mother he was right there ready to lay down the law. Paul liked it that their dad never hit them, but he could sure yell. Brother he had one loud deep voice.

Only once did he ever see his father really grab one of them. One day Wayne had come home and announced he wanted to buy a motorcycle. Dad picked him and threw him against the wall. He shouted something about how if he wanted to get killed he would just as soon do it himself. They all got the message. Some things were simply off limits.

Paul remembered how Wayne hadn't liked being thrown around, but he sort of did like it too. It was proof about how their father felt about them.

Their mom and dad were both determined they all got a good education. They went to public schools, but they were expected to take the hardest classes. Dad had gotten them all into scouting too. They were all Eagle Scouts.

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With the boat hitched to Wayne's Blazer they all piled in and took off for the woods. There was a State Park not far away, and their boat was registered so they could either fish from the boat or run it out to one of the small islands and fish from there.

Paul knew his brothers weren't along just for the fishing. They were there to keep an eye on him. The three of them had a lot to say on the drive out.

For the first hour or so talk was directed at where to put the boat in, the weather, and how long they should stay out. They had a small tent in the back of the car, but they hadn't picked up anything to eat. They solved that problem by stopping off at one of the food marts. They didn't buy anything fancy, just a few cans of ravioli, some spam, a couple cans of corn, some dried meat, and the usual toiletry items. Aubrey bought a lottery ticket.It wasn't supposed to be some big camp out. If they wanted more or different stuff they could always slip back into one of the nearby convenience stores.

They were on the road for about an hour when the conversation finally got around to the girls. It was pretty dead on about Ariel and Aubrey. They were so close you couldn't get a piece of tracing paper between them, and all three knew Wayne had been carrying a torch for Lauren for years. They only hoped she wasn't side tracked by one of the dozen or so other boys who were after her. Yes, Lauren was quite a catch. She was pretty. She was smart, and she had one hell of a personality.

Finally they got to the main event.

Aubrey started it off. He looked at his brother, "You really like her don't you."

Paul responded, "Yeah, I guess I do."

Wayne added, "I didn't see. But I guess she got pretty badly beaten."

Paul nodded, "I didn't see anything either. Mom wouldn't let me, but she said it was bad."

It was Aubrey's turn, "I'm glad you didn't let us do anything that day we first met her."

Wayne chimed in, "Me too."

Paul added, "Me three." He remembered that first day. They'd stripped off her clothes, tied her hands up, and were making ready for a big sex fest. He was glad now he'd used the head on his shoulders and not the one between his legs.

Aubrey asked, "So what if she decides she doesn't like you?"

Paul looked out the window, "I don't know."

Aubrey added, "You've got to be prepared for that you know."

"I know," answered Paul.

Wayne was driving so he had to mind the road, but he still had something to offer up, "I hope she likes you. I don't know much, but I like her. I think she'd fit right in. The girls like her too I think."

"She's pretty enough," commented Aubrey. He went on, "And did you see how mom looked at her? She always wanted a girl."

Paul jibed, "I thought she had one."

Wayne laughed, "Yeah Aubrey."

Aubrey made as if to punch him, "You're the mommas boy Wayne."

Wayne laughed, "We both know the truth."

Wayne and Aubrey both leered at Paul. Paul ignored them and looked out the window.

They rode on in silence for a few more miles before Paul said anything, "I never met a girl like her before. She's had it pretty tough; it's messed her up too. She wanted to be a doctor but the creep talked her out of it. I bet she'd be a good doctor." He had a melancholy look when he mumbled, "I know she's not the prettiest, but I really like being around her."

Aubrey looked his brother over carefully, "You act like you already lost. That's not like you."

Paul replied despondently, "I think I have. Lost I mean. I think she sees me and sees John and thinks about what happened. You see I sort of told her what was going to happen."

Aubrey shrugged, "Shit."

Wayne tried to put a good face on things, "Maybe not. Maybe she won't."

They drove on to the lake. It was going to be a somber fishing trip.

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Allyson didn't wake up until after 9:00 p.m. Audra was back in the room seated on the chair reading a novel. Allyson looked around. At first she didn't know where she was. She asked, "Where's Paul?"

Audra answered, "The boys went fishing. They won't be back till Saturday night."

Allyson was confused. She shivered and asked, "What day is today?"

"It's Wednesday night. I can call Paul and get him if you want."

Allyson answered, "No never mind." She did and didn't know what she wanted. She wanted to see Paul. It wasn't just that he'd rescued her. It was just, well she just. She felt like she needed someone. No not someone, she needed him, but she didn't want to force him into anything.

Her mind began to wander. It drifted off into one of those dark forested areas where nothing was clear, where anything and everything lurked in the shadows; the habitue of hope, uncertainty, fear, and despair. She thought, Paul; he had a future. What did she have; nothing, only a lot of scars on her back. He was the only person she could talk to, but she was afraid. She dare not try to take advantage of him. He never judged her. She knew he wanted to tell her what to do, but he never did.

He was waiting for her to make some kind of choice. She already had, sort of. But he was so young; she would only pull him down. She felt like they had this connection, or was the connection only her imagination, was it just her clinging, and his sense of duty.

Allyson wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She wanted to just to scream. She was drowning. That was it! She was like the drowning swimmer whose only escape was in drowning the person who'd save her. Suddenly everything was clear; if she turned to Paul she'd only drag him down. She could never do that to him. Just as suddenly her true feelings came vividly into focus. It was like sky opened up. Oh God no! Why him?

Audra watched her. She saw the confusion, the indecision, "If you want I can get him on his cell phone."

Allyson tried to get up. She tried to stir, but she was so weak, "I have to leave."

Audra was at the bed, "No you don't, not yet anyway. The doctors want you to rest. They said at least a week. We made a follow up appointment for next Thursday."

Allyson broke into a cold sweat. She involuntarily whimpered. Her body started to shake. A week she thought? She'd never make it. She'd give in, "Next Thursday. I can't wait that long," She tried to move again but fell back on the bed.

Audra was immediately beside her, "You're taking a lot of medicine. You're back is seriously infected. The doctors are afraid you might be septic. Please let us take care of you; at least till next week."

Allyson fell back on the pillow. She thought, better the fishing rod. But she was so tired, "OK."

Audra breathed a sigh of relief. She thought again; a week. I've got a week. She watched as the young woman drifted back toward restfulness. This time it looked like it might be real sleep, not something filled with fever. She stepped in the hall. She punched in Paul's cell phone number.

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Out by the lake Paul's phone rang two times. He shuffled it from his pocket, and flipped it open, "Hello."

"Hello Paul?"

"Mom?"

"Maybe you should come home. She's asking for you."

"Is she all right?"

"I think she needs someone she can talk to."

"OK mom we'll be home in the morning." He turned to his brothers, both of whom were wide awake and trying to listen in. Paul announced, "We have to get home. Allyson's asking for me."

The three young men started to break camp. Paul kept his thoughts to himself, but he was worried, scared even. She wanted to see him. Maybe she needed him? Maybe she wanted to blow him off? Maybe this was a good thing? Maybe not? What did his mom say; something about love? He remembered something else; something about not keeping a bird in a cage. The bird had to be allowed to fly before you could be sure. Oh hell what was it? What did it matter? She wanted to see him. He needed to see her. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving; the day the Pilgrims' prayers were answered, the day they put the past behind them and started to look ahead with hope, with heart.

Paul moved with increased eagerness, there was anticipation in his step. They'd never really ever kissed. He'd dreamed of holding her in his arms, caressing her soft cheeks, smoothing his hands over her woman's body. Could it be, he thought? He'd love to be able to take her out on a real date, have dinner at a nice place, see her dressed like a real woman and not some artificial child fantasy. He'd show her off. They could talk, make plans, share their hopes, dream about the future, a future they'd have together. OK, he was only twenty-one, but he knew.

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Back at the Hanson's Paul's mother had just stepped from the room, Paul's room. Allyson was groggy, barely awake. She was trapped in some kind of miasmic swamp. The more she thought the tighter the constraint. Was this what it was like to be trapped in quick sand; the more one moved the deeper one sank. What did she want? Did she really want Paul?

What would Paul do if she said the three words she knew he wanted to hear? Would he crush her in his arms and kiss her; treat her like the woman she was, like the complete person she wanted to be? Would he hold her and hug her like a woman grown? Would he insist they go out, go out like man and woman, husband and wife; be seen as a loving couple, true companions, equals before the eyes of God and man.

Or would he degrade her like John had done? What if he expected her to kneel at his feet like some collared dog, would he make her put her lips to his penis, then order her to wrap her mouth around it while he pet her as though she were some trained animal, then run his hands through her hair as she sat slavishly between his legs fondled and patted only to insist he complete her humiliation by holding her head tightly against his crotch as he poured his semen down her throat. No, not Paul, not him, he was good.

Allyson reached down and touched her thighs.She felt her woman's fluids slowly escape from the crease between her labia. It wasn't about that.

She pressed her hands against her too small breasts. She put her fingertips to her ugly misshapen face then to her lips. She ran her fingers through her mousy brown hair. She squeezed her hands against her temples. He was physics. He was string theory. What was she? God help her; she was washed dishes and ironing. She knew she had no right. Certainly not... And yet. And yet she needed to talk. She needed to talk to Paul. She prayed... No! Should she? Would he? Was she even slightly worth it?

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This is the end of part five.