"SAVE ME" revised: Part Two

                         

                                                                                        Chapter 3




We entered the bar. The smell of stale beer, greasy food and old urine combined to make its own disgusting cologne.
The bar itself was made of plywood, how nice, painted black. The stools were the nicest accessory. There was a large mirror behind the bar, its edges blackened with age. Bottles of low budget booze lined the back shelf. Spot covered glasses on the lower shelf.
Julio himself stood behind the bar with a large toothy grin as he spoke to one of his regulars.
Jake flashed his badge.
Julio reached behind him and turned the music down.
"Who you looking for?"
"Is your name Julio?"
"Yeah."
"Then you're the one we're looking for. Can you turn the music off for now?"
Though the music is now off, my ears still ring and my head still pounds. I let Jake do the talking.
"What cha want?"
"Talk on the street is you may have had our victim working your bar."
"Who?"
"Miranda Blake."
'Don't know the name."
"She was 5', slim, blond shoulder length hair, blue eyes. And please don't try to tell me you have so many of  ladies gracing your ....establishment on a regular basis."
Julio laughed.
"No, officer, I don't."
Jake nodded.
"I didn't think so. So tell us about her."
"She come in here bout three or four months ago. Says she wants to do me a favor. So I say, okay. She come behind the bar and does me a real nice favor."
Julio winked at me as he smirked. Sickening.
"That was it?"
"No. She give me her card, told me to think about hiring her and left. I called her the next day and said come back. I ask for another favor, so I can be sure. She does. I tell her she's hired."
"Do you still have her card?" I asked.
"Yeah."
He pulls a small  business card from his old cash register.
Jake takes the card and we both check it out. It's black with a garish shade of pink full lips. In the center of the bottom lip is a phone number. At the bottom right the name Sweet Baby.
"We need to keep this card."
"Go head. I can't use it no more."
Jake slips the card into a small pocket of his note book.
"Did she say anything, any conversation at all?" I inquire.
"You kiddin?"
"No. We are looking for any thing she might have said that would give us a clue as to why she selected your...ah....place of business."
"No. She didn't say."
"If it's the same to you, we would like to ask your customers the same question."
"Go head."
I turned to look around the dark room. Several people are seated at tables against the back wall. As we head in their direction, I detect the distinct scent of weed.
There are five people seated staring up at us as though we are a figment of their imaginations.
I look at the nearest male, long filthy dreadlocks, huge black circles under his lifeless dark brown eyes. His skin is ruddy, acne scared and scaly. The cigarette held in his yellowed fingers is burning his long fingernails, warping them into sick art. The clothes he has on are torn, dirty and too big for his small frame. His jeans are worn thin in spots, with grease and oil stains. His feet are unwashed, laced into tattered sandals. As he moves his feet the odor wafts into our personal space.
"Do you know 'Sweet Baby'?"
His smile reveals missing front teeth. The remainder of his teeth are black and broken into ragged edges.
"Sweet Baby? No."
I move back about three steps to get away from his aroma.
Jake moves in for the kill.
Grabbing the man's shirt, popping what few buttons he had, pulls him to his feet.
The sound of thin material ripping can be heard in the silent bar.
"We know she worked this bar. We know someone like you would have taken full advantage of that situation. We are not here to arrest anybody. We want information."
Jake let go, pulled his hand back to his side.
The customer smoothed his shirt which hung open, revealing a wafer thin hairless chest, prominent rib cage. I could even see his heart beating.
"Why didn't the lady cop just say that? Yeah, we all know 'Sweet Baby'."
"Did she mention a reason or a pimp, anything as to why she was here?"
"Nobody sat around and talk wit her. Specially me. I never say a word to her and I never let her touch me. I didn't want to catch nothin." He chuckled and winked at me.
We let the guy sit back down while we both took out our note books. Jake started with the left of the table, I took the right.
"We want names and addresses. Give us the truth and we will leave you alone. Lie to us, and we will find you and arrest you."
"What cha gonna arrest us for?"
I looked to mr.dreadlocks and winked as I answered.
"We'll think of something and make it stick."


                                                           



                                                                                    CHAPTER 4



                                                              I watch Seirra as her life ebbs with the flow of her blood. The ground is saturated. The metallic smell of warm blood fills my senses.  As I hold her close to me to comfort her, I kiss her lips while I stare into her lifeless eyes. How beautiful she is now, at peace and without the pain. I have released her from the pain that would come into her head at some point in her lifetime. She will not be a cutter. I did it for her.
I lay on my back for a while and imagine her floating away with a huge smile on her lips with her eyes closed in her own ecstasy. I'm so very good.
Now I know that I have to place her body in a very special spot.
                                I get dressed pulling a change of shirt from my backpack.I inspect my body for any blood, but I remained clean. Even Sierra's body is clean except for the thick slice in her throat.
I think about the things that this girl was afraid of, I know she thought I planned to rape her. That never entered my mind. I am not a rapist. I would never dream of forcing my desires on another human being. What I am is really simple. I am a crusader. An angel, if you will. Or maybe you would rather think of me as a prison guard, and now I release those who have been imprisoned within their own heads. That's pretty cool, don't you think?
I place her torn bra in my backpack, her jeans and stupid t-shirt I leave under some bushes. It's been a little over an hour so I'm sure her friends are searching the festival for her.
I am always amazed that no one ever comes upon me while I do my business. The fact that no one ventured into the woods tonight convinces me that I'm doing the right thing. I refuse to believe it's only dumb luck. No one could be that lucky. Right?
I cover the body with leaves and brush. I will come back for it later.

                                                                                                * * *
I wander around the festival, my backpack with it's prize strapped on nice and tight. I carry my victim with me for a time. I see three young girls and they do seem frantic. Pretty things.
I approach one as she tries to get the attention of an artist who is doing his best to entice what little crowd was left, to purchase his paintings.
"Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt but I am looking for my friend. She is about five feet with short dark brown hair, like a pixie cut, she is wearing blue jeans and a yellow t-shirt with the name 'Oslo Inc.' in dark green letters. Have you seen her within the past hour and half?"
" She stopped to look at my paintings for a few minutes, then headed toward the food stands."
"How long ago was that?"
"I'm not sure, maybe two hours ago?"

Wow! Pretty good estimate. I keep my distance from him as well as her as she speaks to her friends. They now head to the line of food stalls. Some are already closed and gone, but the others are in the process of packing. I see the cotton candy stand is still open, serving a few last kids looking for a sugar high. God save their teeth, is all I can say.
The three stop at a sausage and pepper stand. I hear the description of the girl once more. What was her name? I don't remember. He must not have seen her because they move to the next stand right away.

The soft breeze is filled with the scent of grilled sausage and peppers mixed with a touch of sweetness from the cotton candy. The combination reminds me of a medicine I had as a child. Nauseating.
                            I clear the sausage stand and approach the cotton candy man. The air is now filled with the sweet scent of sugar and syrup. I watch the girls as they speak to the vendor.
My heart begins to race, this is so exciting. Will the cotton candy man remember me? I try to recall his attitude at the time and I'm pretty damn sure he was looking at the girl, not me.
At any rate, my baseball cap hid my bleached hair and the dark blue polo shirt has now been replaced with a deep green and white striped surfer shirt. Love these casual shirts. I am such a fashion statement at times.
"Sure I saw her. Quite awhile ago. Some guy paid for her cotton candy and they walked off together talking and laughing."
The three smiled as they looked to each other.
I moved up to the man behind the stand. I looked at his cotton candy, two different colors. Emm, should I go with the pink, like the girl? of go with the green to match my shirt?
I choose the pink. I give him a $10 bill and he gives me $6 back. A sale. How nice.
I smile, say thank you, all the while I'm listening to the conversation off to the side.
"So Seirra got lucky. She said she wanted to lose her virginity tonight. What a dork."
"What should we do?"
"I know exactly what to do. Let's look in the woods, maybe we can catch them in the act."
Oh my heart pounds with so much adrenalin I may just keel over. Having her friends find her would be more special than my placing her in a special spot.
I follow behind them as they head to the end of the food stands. The path we took was right in front of them. They hesitated as if to re-think the plan. As they talked I looked around as if searching for someone. The artist was nearly packed, and beside him a stand that had been selling lame pottery was gone. Not too many witnesses left. I looked back at the girls but something in the bushes caught my attention.
It was pink cotton candy stuck to the briar.










                                                                                  * * *
I stood horrified. The little minx had been leaving a trail behind us.
I turn toward the cross street and my parked car. I look back at the three pretty girls, under my breath I whisper"Yes girls, go into the woods."
                                  I park my baby in the garage. As the motor rumbles to a stop, I remember the gift I was to bring home to the little wife.
I will have to go through my treasure trove and select something beautiful. My wife has been pretty darn good lately. Once I cured her of her nagging, well, almost cured. Still has the occasional nag fest. But not like it was before. After six years you would think she would know better and catch herself before she begins.
I see my chest under the work bench by the door. Hidden in plain sight. I love it!
I rummage through the assorted little piles of memories. As I touch each one, my heart begins to race with emotion.
I select a turquoise necklace. It's a sun shaped stone on a thin silver chain. The woman who wore this with such pride was released from her pain years ago. I put the necklace in my pocket and place the cut bra in my trunk. I toss my backpack under the staircase and head into the house, through the silent kitchen and up the stairs.
I hear my wife's soft snores out in the hallway. Makes me smile. I have told her she snores but she argues the point. I should record her some night.
I change out of my clothes in the bathroom. Hop in the shower, let the water beat my shoulders. I am a little stressed, so I lean against the wall and let it beat and then sluice down my back. It beats my ass, then makes its way down my legs.
I sigh with the thought of so much life to live.
                                I let the water beads on my skin dry in the air from the overhead  duct. I get the good old goose flesh.
I brush my teeth, use the water pik and floss. Now I moisturize my face and entire body.
I slide under the royal blue sheet and press up against my wife. She snorts as I push myself between her thighs. I can't help myself. I chuckle.
She turns on her back, smiles up at me and asks, "what's so funny?"
My kiss is deep with all the love I feel for her. Then I tell her the truth.
"You snorted like a little piglet."
I let my hand slide down her belly. I watch my hand as though it belongs to another. I wonder if my hand had a choice would it want to stay with me or move on?
This is the  same hand that slid the knife into and then across that girls young throat. The same hand that has done it so many times before. This hand that caresses my wife's body in love and lust. This same hand that must have a mind of its own to do the terrible things it contemplates.
I sense the good feeling wane as paranoia creeps up my spine. What have I done? I don't remember. Where did I go? Did I go out? Oh God my head hurts.
My wife puts her arms around my shoulders and draws me near.
I feel her warm breath through my hair as she comforts me.
I trace my hand down to her thick belly and feel the baby kick.