Girl in a Box Ch. 4-9

Laura looked at the offered hand.

Everything from her garish makeup, to those ridiculous clothes, screamed “hooker.” Cleaned up and dressed properly, she could pass for a high school student. However, she and her kind ran places like this.

This was her new life. Guards showing their power like that woman cop. Hookers telling her to get in their beds. They’d gang up on her, scratch her face and cut her. Hold her down while they pushed their filthy asses into her face, and played with themselves. Everybody used to be so nice. The world used to be so perfect. Now it was filled with people who hated her. They wanted to see her suffer, wanted to see her dead. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

“Holy, shit,” Marge said, rushing to put her arms around her, “Don’t fall apart on me.”

Laura flinched and went stiff as a board.

“Hey, I didn’t mean nothin’,” Marge said, backing away just as fast.

“I don’t want to do that,” Laura said, still rigid.

“I wasn’t forcing you. I didn’t do nothin’,” Marge said, sitting down hard on her bunk.

Laura could see that the girl was genuinely hurt. She was looking down at the floor, and her lips were pouted like a little kid.

“I just thought you needed a friend. I don’t have many friends, and I thought we could be friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Laura said.

“Whatever,” Marge said, and flopped back on her bunk.

“I mean it, I… Things…”

Marge propped herself up on one elbow. “Been having a rough time, huh?” she said. There was understanding in her eyes.

“I’d love to share a bunk with you,” Laura said, rising. She took a deep breath, and bravely walked over to Marge’s bunk.

“Hey, don’t do me any favors,” she said, insulted, “You aren’t that hot.”

Laura turned, meaning to go back, but sank down and sat on Marge’s bed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me any more. I don’t know who I am. Please be my friend, Marge. I really need a friend.”

Marge sat up with a concerned look, and tentatively held her arms out. Laura fell into them and buried her face in her neck.

“I’m sorry,” Laura blubbered.

“It’s okay,” Marge said, patting her back.

“I’m so, so, sorry.”

They slept together on the narrow bunk that night, but Marge never tried to give Laura anything more than comfort.

Laura sat, lost in her own thoughts, as the state called witness after witness. They had become an endless line of accusing fingers, one blurring into the next, until her lawyer started objecting vehemently.

“Sidebar,” the judge said as the two lawyers argued.

“That’s him,” Laura said coming out of her daze, “That’s the man who knows about Jim’s gambling debts and the mob and everything.”

Her lawyer tried to pry her fingers off his arm, “He’s a prosecution witness. I can’t let him testify until I’ve interviewed him.”

“He knows. He can save me. Ask him about the gambling. Ask him about the man in New Jersey. Ask him about the Mob,” Laura pleaded, “Everything’s going to be all right, now,” she said, excited.

Her lawyer glanced back a couple of times as he went hesitantly to the sidebar. Laura nodded and smiled every time.

Laura listened with rapt attention as the prosecutor established that the man was a homeless person, and had been given food and money by Laura several times over the last year or so. Laura only remembered giving him money once, when Dave was driving her to court, before her bail was revoked.

She was ashamed that she only remembered his face now, because he could help her. How many of the dregs that she helped, were nothing more than their grubby hands in her memory?

“You were the victim of a robbery attempt last night. Could you explain, for the court, what happened?”

“One of her buddies tried to steal her money back,” he said, pointing at Laura.

“Objection, your honor.”

“What are you talking about,” Laura said.

“Sustained, and tell your client to keep quiet.”

“How much money did you have at the time of this robbery attempt?”

“Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s an awful lot of money.”

“Fuckin’ A,” he said, “oh, sorry your honor.”

“Where did a homeless man get two thousand dollars?”

“She gave it to me,” he said, pointing to Laura.

“Did you give him any money?” her lawyer asked.

“Yes. He needed two thousand dollars to get out of town. He could get killed for telling me about the man in New Jersey,” Laura said.

“What was this money for?” the prosecutor said.

“I was supposed to tell a story about some gang wanting to bump off her husband. She gave me this stuff to prove it,” he said.

“No, no. Tell them what you told me.”

“She wanted me to make up stuff like I was a gangster, or something.”

“He’s lying, can’t you see that? Make him tell them the truth.”

“Sit down, Mrs. Wesson.”

“Tell the truth, God damn you!” Laura screamed as she tried to climb over the table, “You God damn lying son of a bitch!”

They broke for an early lunch after Laura was dragged kicking and screaming from the courtroom.

Laura thought she heard laughter on the way back from lunch. It was demon laughter. They were laughing at her. Her haunted eyes came up off the floor when she stepped into the court, and she looked into a mirror image of herself. The eyes were exactly the same as the ones in the mirror she so desperately wanted to smash. She’d seen the face around those eyes, she had seen the same haunted look, only now she understood. Tex broke the baleful stare first, and went back to his seat.

He wasn’t thinking back to that night. He didn’t want to think about anything any more. All he had to do was wait. Do what he was told. Then get the hell out of here and never come back. He hated what he was going to do to that poor woman, but he feared what those two men had promised, far more. They had showed him what disobedience would cost, and he couldn’t pay that price again.

“Where you from, Tex?” whap!

It wasn’t a playful slap. It left a bright, pink handprint on the bound man’s ass. The mark couldn’t be seen in the dark of the squalid crack house, and would be hidden by other marks before the night was over.

“Pennsylvania?” whack! “Ohio?” whap!

Tex couldn’t answer. His mouth was wide open, and held that way by hard, plastic clamps on his back teeth. The other man was pulling his head back by the expedient of two fingers rammed in his nostrils and was feeding his cock into his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” the man said, as Tex arched up and gagged.

“Looks like a worm, don’t he?”

Both leather-hooded men laughed as Tex writhed under their assault.

“Better get used to it, Tex. You’re going to have a lot of cocks down your throat if you don’t do what we say.”

“Man, this is one tight little ass on this fucker,” the other man said. “”Want me to loosen that up for you?” smack! “The boys in the joint are going to love that ass of yours, cowboy.”

“Yeah, They’ll be riding you day and night,” said the other.

“Bareback.”

“Oh yeah, bareback. You got AIDS yet, fucker?”

“Fuck! This little bitch is gonna’ make me cum. Hold his neck up so I can go deep.”

“My turn,” the other one said a short time later, “Lift his ass up.”

Tex wasn’t worth the cost of a lubricant, so the man simply spit in his hand to ease the entry. He enjoyed the screams as he forced his cock in, and put his mouth close to the ear of Tex as he settled on his back and fucked him.

“Just remember, if we get that bitch hung, all your problems will go away. If not…”

They continued the rape, as brutally as possible.

Marge was waiting when they brought Laura back.

“I heard,” she said.

“Why? Why are they all lying about me?” Laura said.

Marge folded Laura in her arms, and simply stood there while Laura buried her face in her shoulder. Laura’s shoulders shook several times, and Marge’s shirt was soaked from the shoulder to the neck, but Laura never made a sound.

“Are you still awake?” Laura said softly, an hour after lights out.

“Yeh,” Marge said.

“Can I come over there?”

“Sure, honey, cuddle up,” Marge said, holding up the sheet.

Laura ignored the invitation of the raised sheet, and placed her hands on either side of Marge’s head. She lowered her face so their lips almost touched, and waited.

Marge tilted her head up and their lips touched.

The fever that gripped Laura was like nothing she’d felt before. Her only friend in the world was pinned under her writhing body, and she desperately needed to posses every part of her.

Marge tried to break away once, to catch her breath, but Laura wouldn’t let her lips escape. She recaptured them with her mouth, sought out the tongue hiding deep inside, and sucked it into her own mouth.

“Easy, baby, easy,” Marge said when the brutal kiss ended.

“I need you Marge. I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life. I love you,” Laura said, kissing her neck, “I love your heart, your soul, and every inch of your body.”

Marge’s fingers suddenly turned into claws at the back of Laura’s head as Laura’s mouth and hands tormented the breasts of the young prostitute. She fucked men every night when she was on the streets, but never felt anything but pain and disgust when she was with them.

She’d never made love to a woman, regardless of what she’d told Laura, but she had wanted Laura to take her from the first time she saw her. She’d dreamed of a million ways it might happen, but never like this.

This rich, beautiful woman was in love with her, crazy about her, wanted to treat her like a queen and please her. Her lips were tracing down her belly, hungry, searching, seeking out her sex to give her pleasure.

Marge opened her legs, and for the first time wanted what was moving between them. Laura’s lips hungrily sucked the soft flesh of her leg, so close to her pussy, but she didn’t need further arousal. She’d been waiting for this too long. She’d been waiting for this all her life. It was her turn. Someone wanted to please her. Someone loved her so much they wanted nothing but to give her what she’d always been forced to give others.

A tongue went in where a million cruel cocks had gone, and the small, living thing started a fire that no grunting man could touch.

The filth of the world never touched Marge. She had a special wall. Whenever they touched her, down there, her wall came up and protected her. It didn’t matter what they did down there; she couldn’t feel a thing. Her wall protected her.

The wall wasn’t there with Laura. Everything rushed up, and strangled a cry in her throat. Laura’s tongue was alive inside her, and every movement sent jolts thru Marge.

Laura’s mouth closed on Marge’s clit, and sucked the little button up for her tongue to pummel. Rippling waves of pleasure spread out from that nexus, and jolted every muscle in her body. This was how it was supposed to be. This was what the poets talked about.

“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t ever stop,” Marge moaned, her body convulsing in an orgasm she should have had eight years ago, “Love me forever,” she said as another missed passion washed over her.

“You’re crying,” Laura said with concern, exhausted by the girls endless orgasm.

“It’s so beautiful,” the tears kept pouring out as she smiled, “You’re so beautiful. You love me, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love you, Marge,” Laura said.

Marge pulled her tight, her chin resting on Laura’s shoulder, “You really, really love me,” Marge said.

“I’m crazy about you,” Laura smiled.

“I knew it,” Marge said, kissing Laura’s neck and stroking her hair, “You’ll never leave me, will you. We’ll always be together.”

Laura frowned, as the tough hooker seemed to turn into a desperate child before her very eyes.

“I knew you’d come for me some day, I knew it. I never gave up,” the kisses kept coming faster.

Laura tried to lift up, get a look at Marge’s face, but the girl was holding her too tight.

“I can cook for you. I’m a real good cook. I can help you pick out your clothes, clean stuff, I’ll do anything, anything you want me to. It’ll be just like we’re married. Can we get married in Virginia?”

“I don’t think so,” Laura said. Laura couldn’t get up. Marge was wrapped around her so tight that if she rose, Marge would still be attached to her as she stood.

“We’ll be so happy, you’ll see. I’ve waited for this all my life, waited for you. You’re so beautiful, so classy, I’ll make you proud, you’ll see. Oh, god I love you,” Marge said, and nearly squeezed the last of Laura’s breath out of her.

“How can things get any more fucked up?” Laura wondered, as she lay trapped by this human kudzu.

“I fixed your stuff for you,” Marge said as Laura woke up the next morning.

Laura groaned when she saw how all her possessions were arranged with meticulous care. The clothes she’d be wearing out of the cellblock were neatly laid out on her crisply made bed.

Marge was everywhere, helping, as Laura tried to get dressed, chattering constantly about how their life would be, together.

Laura’s initial pity turned to anger, as this new complication pushed its way into her life.

“Perhaps,” she said from the open cell door as they came to take her to court, “we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. We’ve only just met, and this is hardly the best place to start making long term plans.”

Laura cursed herself the entire way to court. She wanted to take it back the instant she said it. She didn’t need to plunge a knife into someone’s chest to know what the reaction would be; she’d just seen it on Marge’s face. No matter what happened in court today, she knew what she had to do. She had to find a way to heal the wound she’d inflicted on Marge.

“Where’s Marge?” Laura asked when she got back to her empty cell. All Marge’s things were gone, and Laura’s stuff was thrown in the corner.

“Some suit came to visit her,” one of the other girls explained, “and after that she cut some kind of a deal with the D.A. Don’t worry. That kid is so fucked up, she’ll be back warming your bed in no time.”

There was a delay the next morning in court, and Laura was led to a conference room.

“I had to talk to you,” Julie said, coming in from the other side, “There’s something funny going on, and I don’t know what to make of it.”

She seemed out of breath as she rushed to sit across from Laura at the conference table.

“Funny? I guess so. I’m sure everyone is cracking up about my alibi after your testimony. Did you even watch TV after I left?”

“I did. I watched Tip of the Iceberg, just like I said,” Julie insisted, “I know what I saw, I even checked with the cable company to make sure they weren’t the ones who screwed up. I think I know what happened, but it seems so impossible.”

“I can’t wait to hear this,” Laura said.

“There was a tape in the bungalow, in the VCR,” Julie started, “I found it last night. I had to go back and walk thru everything that happened that night. You’ll never guess what was on that tape.”

Laura stared at her for a moment, her hostile attitude softening a little. “That Tip of the Iceberg episode?”

“Kind of,” Julie said, “It was just the opening scene, you know, before the title comes up, but you could see it was that episode. Then it all turns to snow and this rainbow looking thing, and then the rest of the tape is one of those TV evangelists.”

Laura’s brow knitted, trying to figure out what it all meant.

“I’ve been going over it in my mind, and it makes sense, in a crazy sort of way.”

“What?!” Laura said, exasperated.

“Bobby the Preacher cleaned the beach house for us the night before we went down, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Laura said. “The landscaper dropped him off and I gave him bus fare back.”

“Okay. Let’s say he recorded “Tip” the night before, he might have done it accidentally, pushed the record button while cleaning or something. The VCR was on cable 27, because I was the last one there before then.”

“Unlikely, but possible,” Laura said.

“So it keeps recording for two hours, or ‘till the tape runs out, and then it rewinds. Bobby has probably left by then and never hears it rewind. When we show up, the trap is set.”

“But you wanted to watch TV, why would you turn the VCR on?”

“It was still on, don’t you see? I must have punched the “play” button on that universal remote and started the VCR before I found the “on” button for the TV. By the time the TV came on, Tip of the Iceberg was playing and I thought I was watching live TV.”

“That’s possible. That has to be it. She can tell them just like she told us,” Laura said hopefully to her lawyer.

“It sounds bad, made up. I don’t think the jury will believe it, and it might do us more harm than good,” her lawyer said.

“But it’s a shadow of a doubt,” Laura insisted.

“Do you have the tape?” her lawyer asked.

“Yes,” Julie said, proudly patting her purse.

“We have to try,” Laura said to her lawyer.

“I don’t know about this,” he said.

Back in the court, the judge ruled that they would have to wait until the defense presented its case to re-call Julie, and the tape was entered into evidence.

It all took place with the jury out of the courtroom, and Laura could see the wheels spinning in the prosecutor’s head as he considered how he’d handle the new development. His smile sapped Laura’s hopes as his head nodded and he huddled with his team.

“The state has no further objections in this matter, your honor,” he said as his whole team smiled with smug satisfaction.

“They’re all men,” Laura thought, “They can’t believe someone would hit the wrong buttons on a remote. There are women on the jury. They’ll understand.”

“Are we ready to call the jury?” Judge Pool asked.

“Not yet, your honor. Something’s just come to our attention,” the prosecutor said. Someone was showing him a sheaf of papers, and they kept looking at Laura as they talked.

Chapter Six

…Goodbye

They must have found another nail to put in her coffin. Every time she tried to claw an inch up, they pushed her a hundred feet deeper into the pit. Their confidence had turned to glee. They’re going to make everyone laugh at the only thing that might save her, even if it might be true.

“Jim will believe me,” she thought, “He still has to show me how to work all those stupid remotes. He’s always laughing and teasing me about it, cracking up even harder when I hit him in the shoulder.”

“It’s a genetic thing, babe, boys know how to work remote controls, and girls know how to wash dishes.”

“He always tries to make me hit him. Then he holds me and tries to make up. He likes to make up with me, even when he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Judge Pool’s eyes were drawn to the defendant. She was staring into space, with a bright, happy smile on her face. Something about this trial had been giving her the creeps since the jury selection. She took two more aspirins, and looked down at her papers. She didn’t see Laura’s smile become a frozen mask, she didn’t see the faraway look turn into a stare of horror.

Jim wouldn’t be showing her how to work all those remotes any more. He wouldn’t be laughing and squeezing her after she got mad. He wouldn’t be picking her up in his arms any more, he wouldn’t be telling her how much he loved her. She’d thrown him away so she could go thrill hunting, and now he was dead. She couldn’t tell him how sorry she was, or how much she loved him.

“He’s dead,” Laura said in a strangled voice.

“What?” Judge Pool said, looking up from her papers.

“He’s not coming back,” Laura said louder, her breath out of sync and her eyes welling.

They’d arrested her before she knew he was dead. She’d been fighting for her life ever since. She’d never had the chance to grieve for him. Now the wall that she’d built with excuses and denial was starting to crumble. It had been top heavy from the start, and now it was crashing down on her.