Freeney Page 3
“This is control. Can you hear me?” BLEEP-EEP
BLEEP-EEP “10-4. Can you tell me about Mr. Gary Simon in cell #15, Echo 11? He isn’t in his room. The doctor is here, wants to see him.”
“Standby.” BLEEP-EEP
Greg exhaled. Response shouldn’t be long. In the meantime, there were two sets of eyes trying to bore holes into him. He avoided eye contact, trying to maintain a portrayal of equal aggravation at some underling’s communication failure.
“Mr. Simon cannot be accounted for at this time. Greg, I need you to go in the cell and make sure he’s not in there.” BLEEP-EEP
It’s bad enough we lost track of Charles Manson. Are you really going to make me search a cell for a full grown man in which one cannot possibly hide?
Mr. Hudgens looked as though he was about to snap his clipboard in half over his knee. Without saying anything, he rushed off towards the security kiosk.
Dr. Kovac arched an eyebrow in annoyance and waited patiently behind Gregory. The safety officer quickly located the corresponding key on his pocket chain and inserted it into the lock. I know no one’s in there. Then again, it would be just my luck. That freak is probably perched above the doorway like Spiderman, camouflaged against the off white paint, waiting for me to just waltz right into his trap like a dumb ass.
He twisted the key, waited for the metallic whir of the bolt lock deactivating and swung the door open. Just for good measure, before he set foot in the living quarters, he poked his head in through the doorway and took a sneak peek up at the ceiling.
Man, this place is really getting to me.
Chapter 4
“It’s good to see you too, Larry. We’re just going to watch a few movies, play some capture the flag and eat pizza until the sun comes up. Oh, and maybe a little Bible study discussion sprinkled in there.” Pastor Coleman winked.
“O.K., we’ll be back here in a couple of hours then.” Larry sat himself in the red Kia Rio with the two children strapped in the back seat. It had been running while the grownups talked.
“O.K., bub-bye.”
The senior pastor turned his attention to the click clack of the heels approaching him in the parking lot. It was his wife, Challista.
“Did you order the pizzas yet, honey? We’re running out of time and I still have to put the cupcakes in.”
She was always a hot mess, maybe that’s why he liked her.
“Calm down, sweet heart. It’s not the bridge of the USS Enterprise. Just a little sleep over for our parishioner’s kids.”
“Oh, Barry.” She poo pooed his light jab. “I just wanted everything to be ready by the time they get here. I just want everything to be in order.”
She had always been high strung but this was uncalled for. Why was she so nervous?
“Are you O.K.? Do you want to talk about something?”
He could see her hands shaking. Her sapphire blue eyes quivered with anxiety. She wore the look of a cocker spaniel, exhausted from a day of gnawing on it’s master’s slippers.
“Oh, no. I’m fine, dear. Let me have the car keys. I want to grab my glasses.”
Barry obliged.
She unlocked the door of their Buick Skylark and started rummaging through her purse. Coleman noted how attractive women never seem to be aware of their display as she bent over, searching through her belongings, her well sculpted rump bobbing in the air. They were an older couple now but she was one of those timeless beauties. Especially with her candy apple red heels and floral design yoga pants, her white lace panties peaking about the waist line. She had always been arm candy status but today was particularly risqué fashion-wise, even for her.
“O.K.” Finally had her things, she brought herself back around directly into his arms.
“What’s wrong, honey? You’re all over the place.”
“Whew!” She exhaled pure stress. “It’s just something with my sister. She can be so stubborn.”
“Tabitha?”
Pastor Coleman released her. She put a hand on his arm.
“It’s o.k. I’ll talk to you about it later. I’m going to order the pizzas, then I’ll call her. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Female issues. That figures.
They had built a church together, gone through rather unremarkable baby boomer style lives after meeting in 10th grade and becoming high school sweethearts.
Barry watched as she scurried off towards the multi-purpose area of the church.
“O.K., I’ll get the gym set up.” He called out after her.
Challista brought herself through the door of the activity center and made a trying effort to steady herself so she could mete out the batter into the muffin trays for the cupcakes. But there was entirely no point. The flood gates were open. The cookie was crumbling to pieces. The oven had been preset, was turned on and, much like Challista Coleman herself, smoldering for hours.
She just hadn’t gotten around to her baking that afternoon. She was far too distracted. She didn’t know why. But she just knew. But she couldn’t deny the bestial urges consuming her. Her body was radiating with heat like a furnace, as a droplet of anticipation and desire trickled from behind her ear, down her delicate neck, across the flesh of her open neck blouse and disappearing into her ample cleavage.
An unexplainable sexual intensity she had never before experienced had descended upon her that afternoon. She became aware of a presence. A dark, insidious presence conquered her mind. There was never any fear. But she knew that there should be. But she couldn’t resist. The beast was so powerful, yet so gentle. And her curiosity had delivered her into it’s claws.
As she leaned over the counter massaging her neck, it was quite undeniable now. It was approaching. Closer. Closer, still. Closer……. now she felt someone’s eyes on her.
“Hello, Challista.”
She twirled around, startled, her eyes wide with astonishment as she braced herself against the countertop. She was totally caught off guard, not expecting anyone to walk in on her. She’d gotten lost in her private moment.
It was a hooded man in all black on the opposite side of the kitchen. He raised his nose and sniffed at the air deeply.
“Why, Challista, has your little kitten been running like a tap, you naughty little minx. Your panties are thoroughly soaked, aren’t they?”
She was filled with terror. Is this a robbery? He was certainly not supposed to be here. And….her vocal chords would simply not allow her to scream. She wasn’t in control anymore. Her body didn’t belong to her. She knew she didn’t agree with what was happening but she just didn’t have the willpower to stop it. Her hormones were in charge right now and, as he slowly stepped toward her, she felt herself submitting to an indescribable degree of indulgence.
She lifted herself onto the countertop and spread her legs open wide so her hand could cup the moist fabric where her camel toe lay pulsing. Emitting an animalistic groan of satisfaction instantly upon making contact with her clitoris through the nylon, she began vigorously rubbing her lips. She was coming uncontrollably.
She naturally leaned further back and lay on the countertop, her legs spread apart in the air. She alternated between rubbing concentric circles on her most erogenous zones using the three middle fingers of her hand pressed together and slapping herself gently, then progressively harder until her body would convulse with each strike. She could feel her vaginal muscles flexing violently in climax and a broad range of musical notes flowed freely and unpredictably from the chamber of her mouth.
Gary Simon finally approached her and firmly grabbed her feet, pushing them back behind her head so her legs formed the shape of parentheses. Her hands instinctively obliged and took their position on the back of her knees to hold them in place. She was about to get fucked.
The ravenous intruder, still hooded in his black Russell sweatshirt, promptly grabbed her tights by the waist band and tore a chasm down the middle of her pelvis. Her panties were next. He shredded them to pieces in the same manner.
She could no longer contain herself. She meowed enthusiastically, “Oooooh! Oh yes, master! Oh yes, my love! Yes, my lord! Yes! Come into me! Please! Please! Please!!!” She was panting and breathing deeply, her body twitching with anticipation.
The hooded madman grabbed her hair with one hand firmly, tilting her head to the side. His other hand, brought together his index and middle finger forming a ‘gun’ symbol. The fingers fused together by some nefarious process, formed a phallus which proceeded to elongate to an equine length.
Gary’s purple eyes glared with determination. He made sure she was locked into his gaze as he eased the phallic object formed from his fingers into her narrow vaginal cavity, she, shrieking with delight and surprise at every increment of penetration. Once he felt he had reached the furthermost depths of her cervix, he continued to proceed as she began to stretch more and more than she thought possible. All of the air in her lungs exited. She was inundated, her eyes bulging with shock.
“Where is the book with the white tree on the cover?” Gary interrogated.
“What?” She squeaked, caught off guard by the deflection, still focusing on the pain/pleasure of the moment.
“The leather bound, ancient book with the white tree symbol on it. Where is it? I demand to know.”
“My liege, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You filthy cur! How dare you deny me the truth.”
With that he began pumping her aggressively.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You bastard!” She yelled. It was half ecstasy, half outrage.
“You petulant bitch!” He responded. “I am an ambassador for the king of this realm! I am the ultimate authority in this room! You will answer truthfully! You will obey to my satisfaction! It is of your volition that you do so!”
He released the fistful of her locks, gave her two jarring smacks.
“Oh! Oh, yes! God! OK. Yes! I’ll tell you! I promise I will! Whatever you want!”
He was attacking her birth canal so seriously now that she could feel her cervix ripping. He was quite literally trying to rupture her intestinal lining. She began gurgling and having difficulty speaking.
“Ah! You’re hurting me! I swear I don’t know anything about a book. I swear it!” She shouted.
“You’re lying. If you keep lying to me, I’ll kill you. Now tell me! Tell me!!!”
“What is going on in here?” Pastor Coleman had heard the commotion and screams of distress and was now attempting to decipher the spectacle before him.
His wife of thirty six years was lying on the kitchen countertop, twisted into a pretzel, yelling obscenities and apparently engaging, shamelessly, in some kind of extreme form of masturbation.
You think you know a person
She instantly snapped back to reality.
“Barry, I…” Trailing off at the realization of her vastly inappropriate appearance she must surely be portraying. “Oh, my God. What have I been doing?”
Chapter 5
“How’s that?”
Rory looked up from his plate and gave a wide grin. A full glass of milk and an assortment of cold cuts, cheeses and breads sat before him. Also pickles, mayonnaise, mustard and even ketchup. Some kids put it on everything.
Bob regarded him with an arched eye brow and deliberately watched to make sure the vittles were making their way down his throat. He watched for his gullet to move like a mother revels in her own child’s completion of the gestation process. Given what had unfolded in his living room moments before, he was treating the normally routine procedure like an undetonated pipe bomb.
The kids were all sitting at the table. Everyone was watching Rory. If someone could eat a plate of corned beef, they must be ok. Jimmy was holding his teddy by the arm and had reverted to sucking his thumb. He’d been weaned off of the nervous habit since he was five but the stress of the night had caused everyone to cope differently. Seem to remember reaching for a cigarette at this point in the past. Of course, once the kids came around, Linda had banned them from the house. He’d stopped sneaking smoke breaks about eighteen months after Madison was born.
Oh, my God. Linda!
She would be getting home from work soon. Sure, everything was under control but 15 years of marriage had taught Bob to pick his battles and not make any unnecessary scenes within the household, which was indisputably her nest. As long as Bob could manage a scotch and maybe a decent nap, he didn’t give a damn what anybody else did. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. Quite the opposite. He just didn’t want anyone to interfere with his happiness. And as a self-professed problem solver, he felt obligated to embark on a fix it mission for those he was given to care for. So, to avoid hypocrisy, he was forced to do the same. He viewed this philosophy as patently American. Just don’t interfere with anyone’s life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. Why was that not plainly obvious to everyone else?One helluva Halloween so far……for the kids.
“Anybody want a popsicle?” Let’s just try to ease on out of this quagmire, he thought. He was met with little resistance. “Madison, want to help me get some out of the freezer in the garage? Chocolate for you, right Jimmy?”
Jimmy smiled and offered a nod of affirmation.
She met him in the garage. “What are we going to do, daddy?”
“Actually, I was kind of hoping you could tell me.” He grimaced. “He’s your weird friend.”
“He’s not weird. And aren’t you supposed to be the adult?”
Mr. Henley considered this. She had a point.
“Well, does he not act like this sometimes? I mean, does he have, you know, problems?”
“Actually, no. He’s pretty well balanced. I guess his mom and dad don’t really give a care.”
“Yeah but how am I supposed to explain this to your mother? Yeah, the boy got entangled with an enchanted bat. You know, normal teenager stuff.” Grabbed a couple of fudge sickle two-packs, one for each hand.
Maddy giggled. “Yeah. Huh, huh. I don’t know. Dad, that really happened.”
“I believe you, sweetheart.”
But he really didn’t. Moreover, Robert Henley hadn’t the slightest semblance as to what had actually occurred between the kids. Were they playing some morbid prank? Did they really experience something? Or did they simply misconstrue a perfectly explainable event in their unformed minds, making it wholly outlandish and ultimately falling for their own bullshit? He didn’t know and he was beginning to not care. Fast. That fat boy was in there chowing down like a starving caterpillar and it’s Halloween. Way to go. You got me. At least the other one seemed to have his head on straight. Yes, these kids were going to trick-or-treat and Bob was going to have some well-earned alone time with Mrs. Henley. He’d share an inside joke with his daughter at the breakfast table in the morning. Hmm, better than a Tim Allen movie.
“OK, I got ice cream! Who wants some?”
Hopefully no trick-or-treaters would ring the doorbell right now or he might be forced to give them popsicles too. He didn’t even have a candy dish prepared and he was probably going to hear about it from Linda. Hadn’t he done a poor enough job selecting candy in the past to be excused from doing it again? She would probably bring some anyway. Besides, he had a different kind of candy for her.
The kids gobbled them up without hesitation. He knew they most likely could use a warm meal but this was a night created for spoiling dinners.
“Feeling better, big guy?” He prodded Rory.
“Oh yes, Mr. Henley. Thank you very much. I’ve never had corned beef before. I liked it.”
“OK. Well, it’s getting late. Are you guys still going to get candy tonight? You know she has to be back by 9:15.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m ready when you guys are.” Patrick spoke up first.
I don’t think he was expecting me to say that. See? I knew I could be ‘the cool dad’.
Chapter 6
Patrick and Madison exchanged nervous glances as they left the house. He really doesn’t belie
ve us, does he? Hmm, nope. If he did, he wouldn’t have let us leave. Now it had gotten to the point where they were beginning to question themselves. Rory was fine, making small talk and seemingly oblivious to what had just taken place. Jimmy appeared to have moved on as well and could be seen bouncing along the sidewalk like an armed spring ready to release upon whatever house the big kids might suggest. They knew what they had seen was real but if Rory wasn’t talking about it, they didn’t want to bring it up. Not only because it was uncomfortable to think about but they also didn’t want to risk reawakening any latent, volatile thing residing in their friend.
However, it was really bothering them. Maddy turned to Patrick, “What are we supposed to do?”
Staring at the ground, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t know.”
“Patrick, I know what I saw.”
“Me, too. We all saw, even Jimmy.”
“I can’t believe my dad didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, he really didn’t believe us. Did he?”
“No.”
By now, Jimmy had hit on a few two-story homes and was safely distracted with some fun size Milky Ways he was sharing with Rory.
“I don’t know what to do.” She lamented.
“There is one thing.” Without waiting for a reply, “Alma.”
“Who is that?”
“The Mexican lady, down by the park. She knows things.”
“This is crazy.”
“One time, my cousin, she went on a date with this guy. He had a weird family. She didn’t really like him and he didn’t get a second date. But he got mad. He started calling her and showing up places she would go after school. This went on for about two weeks then she got sick. Real sick. And she started speaking in tongues and throwing up and stuff. It was like The Exorcist. They were going to take her to the hospital but they couldn’t get her to cooperate with them. Then, Ms. Alma showed up and cured her. She had some mixtures and herbs and stuff. She said that boy had cursed her and he was evil. Her parents had some camera put up and one night they caught him placing a small statue of a devil with a long nose on their front doorstep while they were asleep.”