RED SOX: 2010?
FEEDBACK: It’s a good thing p.phair@comcast.net
by
phair
The plasma screen was a blur. It was not a malfunction of the expensive device. Tears were clouding Deni’s vision. She was peering into somebody else’s life. Like a peeping Tom in the window, Deni was watching scenes from a life she had no business seeing. As the screen saver pictures flipped, Deni had a creeping feeling of being an intruder.
“Well, I did enter without a proper invite actually,” she muttered darkly to an empty room.
Deni had sat staring at the computer screen for almost an hour. The pictures loaded into the hard drive appeared and faded and swirled in the modern day version of a photo album. Her tears welled and spilled and welled again and again but she could not turn away from the images.
In a very real sense, Deni was watching her son grow up right before her eyes. Jeffrey’s infancy and toddler years were marked by obvious milestone delays and vacant eyes. Sawyer’s smiling face, always smiling, appeared in many shots and more often than not she was gazing at the boy. Regardless of his lack of attention to her, Sawyer was every inch the beaming parent in each candid moment.
“About as cuddly as a cord of wood,” Deni assessed the boy’s stiff stance and apparent indifference to Sawyer’s warm embrace.
Sawyer seemed oblivious to his detachment. She hovered and hugged through endless shots of birthdays, Christmases, Halloweens, July fourths, Thanksgivings, and hundreds of school events. Jeffrey’s father had very limited screen time. None of his moments with the boy gave any hint of his feelings about his son.
“Eugene, you’re almost as stiff as the kid,” Deni stated her observation as a fact.
A change of sorts began with a subtle smile. Deni leaned closer to the screen to watch. Jeffrey’s blank countenance cracked somewhere along the way in the most recent pictures. It started with a breathtaking view from the top a mountain and a glimpse of a half grin on the previously flat featured face. As the pictures raced by, Jeffrey’s smile began to grow. Then came the shot Deni knew she was dreading. Jeffrey, with his climbing helmet strapped to his head and his safety harness still in place, was running with arms wide open into the waiting embrace of…
“…Sawyer…”
Deni wept.
She washed her face an a sink filled with cold water and ice cubes. Carefully, she patted it dry to avoid blotching her skin.
“Don’t want the woman to think I’m some kind of softie, now do we?” Deni asked her reflection.
Silence supported her resolve to remain stoic.
“Got a job to do but no reason I can’t get her to teach me a couple of things about the computer first. Might need ‘em. Never know what I could come up against,” it sounded completely logical inside Deni’s head.
She climbed the back stairs practicing the conversation. Deni wanted to get Sawyer to offer to help her. Of course, if she had to then Deni would force the woman to explain the finer details of the brand new computer system.
“But, it would be better to elicit assistance the old fashion way; the Stockholm Syndrome.”
Once she entered the master bedroom, Deni’s plan momentarily evaporated. Sawyer was laying exactly where she had been placed hours ago. However, her wrists were red raw and bleeding from her futile tugging and twisting against the ruthless metal cuffs.
“What ‘cha do that for?” Deni shouted much louder than she had intended.
Sawyer flinched and cringed. A soft groan of pain emerged from her trembling lips. Her skin was beyond pale and her hair was sweat soaked.
“Sick. I need…please, bathroom…,” it was all she could manage before she had to swallow back the bile trying to rise in her throat.
Deni grabbed the bucket she had left next to the bed. It was awkward trying to maneuver the woman and hold the pail steady but she managed it. Less than a heartbeat later, Sawyer was retching. She heaved and gasped and puked some more before heaving and gasping again. A whimpering sob echoed hollow off the side of the bucket. Shivering, she eased back. Deni released her grip and watched the woman flop down into the pillows. When she entered the room Deni did not think it was possible for Sawyer to look worse but there she lay much worse for wear.
“I’ll go dump this,” Deni muttered but got no reply.
She returned quickly to the bedside. Sawyer looked like she might need the bucket again. Deni didn’t care about the nice carpeting. She just didn’t want to smell the sick for the remainder of her visit.
“Again?” Deni asked and offered the bucket.
Sawyer quickly looked away and closed her eyes. It was as if the memory of being sick would trigger another round. The bound woman shook her head but did not utter any response. Deni put the pail on the floor and then sat next to Sawyer on the bed. She leaned forward and began to key the handcuff’s lock.
“What you tug on these for? You couldn’t get out of them. Can’t break steel, girl. All you done was mess up your wrists.”
Once her hand was free, Sawyer pulled it down and pressed it to her lips. She cried softly but did not open her eyes. Deni leaned across her, crushing her prisoner slightly, to release the other wrist. That hand too was quickly drawn in close to Sawyer’s chest. Deni sat up and Sawyer curled on her side away from Deni.
“No need to thank me,” Deni said with bitter sarcasm as she moved to untie the woman’s ankle.
“Thank you,” it was stated in a flat, even, and controlled voice without any hint of emotion.
Deni raised an eyebrow. She realized Sawyer was trying to appear completely cooperative. Deni had used the compliance routine several times herself. It was a good mode to buy yourself some quiet space to regroup your emotions and strength.
Deni smirked and thought to herself, “Can’t play a player, Sawyer. I know all the tricks. But, I can use a little peace too so I’ll let you work it like you’re winning.” Deni cleared her throat to get her prisoner’s attention. “Okay,” she smiled to reassure Sawyer when she peeked over at her, “I know you feel like a shit sandwich.”
Sawyer groaned then covered her mouth at the vivid image.
“Oops, sorry. I know you feel…bad,” Deni tried again. “I’m gonna help you take care of business in the bathroom. Let you clean up a little. Then we’ll try some flat ginger ale and dry crackers down stairs. I got a pill for you to take. It’ll make it hurt less.”
“It?” Sawyer’s anger rose and any thought of compliance was lost. “Do you mean my unscheduled amputation when you say ‘it?’ If you wanted ‘it’ to hurt less then maybe you should have offered the pills before you hacked my toe off with a pair of scissors. Or, maybe you could have not mutilated my foot in the first place! Now, isn’t that a novel idea? Not harming me! What a great thought.” Sawyer glared at Deni as she sat up. “Keep you’re pills. I’m not taking any of your drugs. I’ve seen your surgical skills and, frankly, I’m unimpressed. No need to try and dazzle me with your pharmaceutical expertise. Or, are you an apothecary?”
Deni pursed her lips and thought, “Screw Stockholm. I’m much more of a Turkish Prison sort of captor anyway.”
Deni grabbed Sawyer by a fistful of hair and snapped up her head until her face was inches from her own nose. Terror rapidly overtook Sawyer’s anger.
“Don’t say I didn’t try to do this the nice way. But, if you want to get mouthy with me then I’m gonna just do things my usual way.” Deni gave a deadly grin, “My way would be the hard way for you. In fact, it’ll be the worst possible way. So, try not to piss me off anymore than I already am ‘cause you already cost yourself another toe. I’ll saw that off before my afternoon nap. Wanna go for three in a row. Make it hat trick like in hockey?”
Amazingly, Sawyer didn’t cry or puke. Deni had expected one or the other. The absence of either was just a little disappointing. She shook off the emotion and moved on with the plan.
“Okay, here’s what you gotta do. You are going into the bathroom and piss and shit. Make the most of it because you don’t get sit on the crapper again for three hours. I’ll get you a change of clothes ‘cause you stink. Wash up but you better do it at the sink. You ain’t gonna be able to stand in the shower no more and we ain’t got no time for a bath. And, for God’s sake brush your teeth you smell like puke. Now move it!”
Deni release her hold and watched Sawyer topple backward. She scrambled to steady herself. The woman managed to scoot to the edge of the bed without additional encouragement or assistance. She hesitated a moment with her feet poised just above the floor.
“I think…I think I might need a hand walking,” she said in a low voice with her eyes glued to her dangling feet.
Deni laughed and stepped back once then twice, “I think you have a problem then.”
Sawyer grimaced but didn’t lift her gaze. She also did not ask again for any help. Using her arms to push up and her unwounded foot for balance, Sawyer got upright. Her bandaged foot hovered in mid air as she looked from it to the bathroom door. Chewing her lip, she committed to take a step. She eased her foot down with one hand clutching the bedpost and the other holding on to the nightstand. Sawyer screamed as soon as she put weight into her leg. The knee buckled and she crumbled to the floor with a clattering of items from the nightstand. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
“Not bad,” Deni chuckled, “for a first step. You only have twenty more to go. Give or take a couple or three.”
“Fuck you! Just kill me. I don’t care what you do. I can’t, I won’t crawl. Do your worst to me,” Sawyer proclaimed around her sobs.
Deni belly laughed. “You’d be stunned at how worst my worst is. I won’t go into a lot of detail but it involves sewing needles and eye balls. Fun, fun, fun. Well, fun for me. Not sure my previous hostages liked it so much. They probably could have told me if I hadn’t staple gunned their tongues to the roof of their mouths.”
Sawyer moaned again. Deni recognized the sound. She dove for the bucket. Grabbing Sawyer by the back of her sweatshirt, she pulled her up and shoved the pail into place. Sawyer held her stomach. She coughed hard. Then the gagging followed but, mercifully, no vomiting.
“Hey, hey, I think you’re through the puking part. Well, that is until I start pruning your tootsies again.”
“Fuck you,” Sawyer whispered in defeated defiance.
Deni leaned over and kissed Sawyer’s feverish brow. “Maybe we’ll do that later, after you wash up, because you stink too bad right now to fuck. Thanks for the offer though. It’ll be less like rape since it was your idea in the first place. Now, start crawling, Missy. I got work for you to do.” Deni silenced Sawyer’s bitter reply with one sentence, “I haven’t ruled out pruning your fingers so shut your trap and be grateful I’m in a good mood.”
It took Sawyer nearly fifteen minutes to crawl into the bathroom. Deni showed a small bit of pity and helped her get up and seated on the toilet. She did not extend her pity to allowing the woman any privacy while she relieved herself.
“I’ve been watching some bitch or other shit or piss less than two feet from my nose for the last five years. You’re nothing special,” Deni smirked and squatted on the edge of the tub.
Sawyer kept her eyes averted. Her sticky hair hung like a curtain blocking much of her abused face from the mocking stare of the escaped convict.
“Take off your shirt and pants,” Deni instructed once Sawyer finished her immediate business.
A soft whimper was followed by a softer plea, “Please, just give me a couple of minutes alone. You can leave the door open and watch from out in the bedroom. I won’t do anything but wash up. I promise. Just five minutes, please.”
“Um, let me think,” Deni cupped her chin before laughing. “Nope! Not gonna happen in this life time. Don’t worry, I won’t be shocked by your birthday suit. You got nothing I ain’t seen hundreds of times. Maybe even thousands of times. Little titties, fuzzy patch, flat butt; no big deal. So, strip yourself before I decide to help you get naked.”
Sawyer’s pale cheeks flushed a bit. She did not look up before she shoved her pants and underwear off her thighs, over her knees, and let them fall to her ankles. Holding the edge of the vanity with one hand and the wall with the other, Sawyer lifted her uninjured foot out of the clothing. Once that was done, she carefully lifted her injured foot but had to support the effort with both hands on her thigh. The loss of support left her swaying as the cloth caught the edge of her bandage. Sawyer sucked in a deep breath before giving the foot a small shake. A sharp gasp of pain resulted but the pants continued to hang from the wounded foot.
“Okay, you win,” Deni snorted as she reached over and tugged the pants free.
“Ahh,” Sawyer cried out but managed to stifle the profanity which was begging to follow.
Deni smiled broadly. “Hurt much?”
“Yes,” Sawyer groaned her reply.
“Wanna pill to make you feel better?”
Silence followed.
Deni watched as Sawyer resumed her undressing. The ragged breathing and shivering movements revealed tremendous pain. Yet, Sawyer asked for nothing. Deni’s heart rate picked up as she watched the agony play out across Sawyer’s delicate features.
“Oh, come on! You’re really suffering. I can tell. It, and by ‘it’ I do mean your unscheduled amputation,” Deni stated with a smirk, “has to be paining you something fierce. Must hurt like a punch drunk bastard on a Sunday morning before church.”
“It does,” Sawyer said and tossed her sweatshirt over to the dirty laundry hamper.
“Then why don’t you want to take something that will make you feel better? What is it? Do you want a spoonful of sugar or something to get the medicine down your gullet?”
Sawyer ran a trembling hand through her sweat snarled hair. “I want to be fully aware of everything going on right up to the minute you kill me. These are the last hours of my life. I should get to be conscious for them.”
“Now, did I say I was gonna kill you? I’m pretty sure I said I just wanted to kill Eugene,” Deni was curt.
“I’m not stupid. I know who you are and what you look like. You’re planning to murder a man in cold blood.” Sawyer gave a contemptuous laugh but kept her eyes fixed on the floor, “You’ll probably make me watch whatever you’re going to do to Raphael. Why would you leave me alive to be a loose end who could go to the police? Why would you leave me alive when I would be more than happy to testify against you?”
Deni pursed her lips before answering, “Maybe I need you alive.”
“For a hostage?”
“For Charlie.”
Sawyer’s head snapped up. She stared wide eyed and drop jawed at Deni. Fear edged into Sawyer’s features.
“You’re gonna use me to get at Charlie?”
“No,” Deni sighed and stood. “I saw your screen saver on the computer. The montage could be summed up as the ‘Wonderful World of Charlie and his Mom.’ The only Mom he’s ever known; Sawyer Thayer-Roman.” Deni walked to the bathroom door and paused to say, “I might be a heartless thief with homicidal tendencies but I love my son. I love him enough to let leave you alive. Please don’t do anything to make me kill you, Sawyer. It would be too hard for my boy to lose you. However, he won’t even notice when Eugene disappears for good. You probably won’t notice much either. I’m gonna go get you something to wear. You wash yourself up now.”
Sawyer didn’t let Deni take more than a step when she asked, “What kind of pill were you offering me before?”
“Didaudid.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Prison pharmacy.”
“Please,” Sawyer closed her eyes as she forced the words out, “may I have one of your Dilaudids?”
“Sure,” Deni answered.
As Deni stepped out of the bathroom, she thought to herself, “Stockholm Syndrome successfully underway. Still, I may want to resurrect the Turkish Prison routine at some point later today for a couple of laughs. Oh, who am I kidding?” Deni shook her head as she entered Sawyer’s walk in closet. “I’m not nearly finished exacting my revenge on the bitch. I’m definitely gonna torture her some more. She might just want me to kill her before I done venting my spleen.” Deni began to hum as she riffled through Sawyer’s belongings, “But, I’m saving all my murdering for Eugene…,”
