Authors: Small Crimes
'Old
business,' I said. 'Nothing I'd like to talk about.'
I
could feel her staring at me. It did something to me to feel her staring at me.
'Come
on,' she said after a while, 'you tell me your secret and I'll tell you mine.'
'I'm
sorry. I'm not in the mood for this.'
'Okay,
I'll tell you mine anyway.' She reached over and whispered in my ear, 'I
haven't had a good lay in months.'
I
looked over and saw her shit-eating grin. Her eyes were blackened by the
sunglasses but she was grinning her big grin. Like only she knew the joke.
'Buy
me another drink,' she said. I bought her another one. After my burger was
brought out, I bought her one also. When we were done eating she told me she
wanted to go for a ride. 'Come on,' she said as she took my hand, and I let her
lead me out of the bar.
When
we got to the parking lot she told me that we'd take her car. She breathed
lightly in my ear, 'I know a place where nobody will bother us. And I'm going
to do things to you tonight you'll never forget.'
She
had a later-model green Taurus. 'I'll drive,' she said. It had gotten dark. I
got in the passenger side and sat quietly and watched the shadows as we went
by. Within minutes we were out of downtown Bradley and heading towards
Eastfield. I guess neither of us was in the mood for small talk. As we drove, I
could at times make out her face in the moonlight and could see the intensity
burning in it.
It
took a while before we got to where she was going. We first had to turn down
several narrow country roads to get to what was nothing more than a dirt path.
Then we drove on that dirt path for miles. Eventually she stopped the car.
She
moved herself around so she was sitting sideways and leaning against the
driver's side door. I could see her plainly in the moonlight. Her skin looked
as if it were smoldering. I moved towards her. She put out an arm to keep me
away.
'Wait,'
she said. I want to hear your secret first.'
My
head was buzzing. It had been almost eight years since I'd been with a woman. I
could barely talk. I did something pretty bad a long time ago,' I said.
'Come
on, you have to tell me.' She started to lift up her shirt, teasing somewhat,
showing off a slightly rounded belly and the bottom area of her breasts.
'Let's
just leave it at that. I did something bad.'
'Come
on,' she pleaded. 'You're not playing fair. I told you my secret.' She rolled
her shirt up farther to fully expose her small breasts for a few seconds before
lowering the shirt to just barely cover them.
I
shook my head. I figured she was a wack job who got off on bad boys and
violence, but I wasn't going to play her game. Even though it had been eight
long years since my arrest, I wasn't going to play her game. I wanted her badly
- at that moment I would've wanted anyone badly - but I was still going to tell
her that it wasn't working out when she exclaimed, 'Oh my God!
'You
were in the paper today!' she went on. 'That's why you looked familiar. You're
the guy who stabbed that DA! Holy shit!'
I
just stared at her, stared as she gave me back a crazy smile.
'What
was it like to stab someone like that?'
'Why
would you want to know?’
‘Come
on, it must have been a rush.'
'No,'
I said, 'it wasn't any rush. I'd give anything not to have done it.'
She
seemed taken aback by that, at least for a few seconds. Then her crazy smile
flashed back on. Her shirt had a little rip near the top and she took hold of
that and ripped it the rest of the way. Her small round breasts were fully
exposed. I could see her chest heaving wildly. The whole thing was crazy, she was
crazy. 'Tear my pants off,' she moaned as she writhed in front of me.
When
I reached for her, she whispered, 'You don't even know my name. It's Clara.'
Something
clicked in my mind. I usually observe everything around me. Even if I'm not
fully aware of it, I'm noticing things and filing them away. In my mind's eye I
could see her green Ford Taurus idling a few doors from my parents' house. I
could see it pulling away from the curb when I left earlier to drive to Zeke's.
I reached up quickly and knocked her dark sunglasses off and saw pure hatred
boiling in her eyes. She still had her crazy smile plastered on her face, but
her eyes were nothing but black holes of venom and hate. I could see the
resemblance then. I should've seen it earlier, but it's hard for me to remember
the way Phil used to look. I did remember that Phil had a daughter named Clara.
She
started screaming rape then. She was screaming at the top of her lungs,
screaming so loud that I thought something inside her was going to rupture.
It's funny what goes through your mind at a time like that. For a split second
I just found it kind of interesting how wrong I had been. How what I thought
was lust heating her up was in fact a completely different and more violent
emotion. Then I realized I had to get out of there.
As
I turned towards the door, she was on me. One hand was clawing at my face, her
other arm wrapped tight around my chest. All the time she was screaming rape. I
saw them off in the distance then. Two guys running towards the car.
I
tried to push her off but she kept clawing and screaming. I had no other choice
so I used my elbow. I swung it behind me and felt it hit something hard. She
made a short moaning noise and her grip loosened enough for me to get away from
her. I was out of the car and watching as those two guys ran towards me.
They
were less than thirty yards away. They were both big boys, probably played
offensive line on their high school football teams. The guy leading the charge
was holding a tire iron. What I did next surprised them. I raced right at them.
The
guy with the tire iron was caught off guard - he just wasn't expecting it. He
was off balance somewhat as he tried to hit me with
the
tire iron and only glanced it off my arm. The blow hurt
but
didn't do too much
damage. I was right on
target with my
punch, though. I put my
whole
body into it and caught him flush
In
the
jaw. His
mouth exploded into a
pink spray and he was out
before he
hit
the ground.
I
turned to face his partner. He had stopped in his tracks. I could see he was
scared - I was more than he had bargained for. I guess they thought their job
would be nothing more than pulling me out of the car and beating me senseless.
He took a cautious step towards me and looked like he was going to throw a
haymaker at my head. I feigned left and then hit him hard with a right jab to
his stomach, and then followed that with a quick rabbit punch to the side of
his head. My last punch knocked him off balance, and before he could regain it,
I kicked his feet out from under him. As he lay on the ground, I grabbed his
arm, swung it behind him and broke it by kicking down hard with my foot. He
screamed and then I think he passed out. In any case, he stopped moving or
making any noise.
I
could make out a jeep parked off in the distance. The guy on the ground in
front of me couldn't have been more than twenty-two. I regretted what I did to
his arm - he'd never be able to use it quite the same again - but I wanted to
put him out of action as quickly as possible. It was a tough lesson to have to
learn. I searched his pockets but couldn't find any car keys.
I
went over to the other boy, the one with the busted jaw. He was still out cold.
Like his friend, he was also only in his early twenties. I searched his pockets
and found a key for the jeep. As I was standing up, I was pushed hard from
behind and almost knocked to the ground. Clara had jumped on my back and was
screaming every vulgar obscenity I'd ever heard in my ear. She was also
scratching up my face and trying to get to my eyes. I threw myself backwards
and landed with a thud. The blow knocked the wind out of her. She looked a
little woozy, but she was still conscious. I got to my feet and started running
towards the jeep.
When
I got in it I looked in the mirror and saw that she had scratched me pretty
good under my cheekbone and had missed my eye by only an inch. I put my hand to
my cheek and felt a warm stickiness. Blood was beginning to trickle down my
face. I put the jeep in Drive, turned it around, and started back down the dirt
path. The headlights momentarily caught Clara and her two accomplices. Clara
was sitting with her face in her hands, her thin shoulders convulsing as she
sobbed. The two boys were still lying on the ground as if they were dead. Even
though they had tried to frame me for rape, and possibly had even planned to
beat me to death, I couldn't help feeling sick to my stomach about what
happened to all three of them.
I
could understand the hatred that must have been burning inside her to push her
into such a crazy plan. And it was crazy and juvenile and poorly thought out. I
don't know how in the world she thought she was going to explain what her two
friends were doing on that dirt road so they could just happen to come across
me while I was 'raping' her. But I could understand the hatred that drove her
to try framing me. I could imagine her looking at her father's face every day
for eight years and hating me just a little bit more each day. I could imagine
how her rage must've boiled over when she heard that I was being paroled after
only seven years. She probably had convinced herself that she was only
correcting a gross miscarriage of justice - that it would be only right for me
to end up serving another twenty years, and in a harder place than county jail.
I was lucky she hadn't gotten herself a gun and walked into Zeke's and started
blasting away. And I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.
I
made up my mind then to leave Bradley. I'd only been kidding myself for a long
time. There are some crimes that just can't be forgiven.
Chapter 5
I
drove to the Bradley police station and told my story to the desk sergeant,
Frank Schilling. Frank and I went way back. He was a year older than I was, and
as kids we used to play football and baseball together. At one time we used to
be friends and we were both ushers at each other's weddings. Now, though, he
didn't seem too happy to see me and he sure as hell didn't believe my story.
'I
got to tell you, Denton,' he said, 'that doesn't sound like the Clara I know.
When she was younger she used to babysit my kids. She's a good kid. I don't
believe she'd pull a stunt like that. It sounds like bullshit to me.'
'Frank,
I swear, that's what happened.'
He
made a face when I called him 'Frank', sort of like he was smelling bad cheese.
'Why don't you call me Sergeant Schilling,' he said.
'You
got to be kidding.'
He
gave me a cold stare. 'You been drinking tonight, Denton?' he asked after a
while.
'I
had two beers at Zeke's.'
'I'll
send someone over to check that out. You doing any drugs?'
I
shook my head. 'I've only been out eight hours now. Where would I have had time
to get drugs?'
'You've
had plenty of time to get into this ugly mess.'
I
started to say something, but forced my mouth shut.
He
let out a long, pained sigh before asking if I was willing to submit to a drug
test. I told him I had no problem with that.
He
looked over his notes. 'And you don't know who those two boys were that you
worked over?'
'No,
they didn't look familiar. But then again, I've been gone for a while. The jeep
I took off them is out front. You could check to see if the registration is in
the car.'
'You
just beat the hell out of those two boys and left them in the middle of
nowhere,' he said with some disgust.
'I
told you they were trying to frame me for a rape—'
'Yeah,
that's your story,' he said. 'I'm going to sit you in the interrogation room
until we sort this out.'
The
Bradley police station has a single interrogation room that is almost never
used. During my twelve years on the force, I had never used it. The first time
I ever sat in that room was the night I was arrested for arson and attempted
murder. Frank brought me back there and had me sit and wait. Two hours later
the door opened and Phil walked in. His skin had a sickly pallor, making it
look as if his face had been dipped in wax.