Read Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider Online

Authors: Julie Dewey

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Retail

Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider (18 page)

BOOK: Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider
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“He is kinky? What’s that even mean?”

“God you are such a prude, you know that?”

“Well, explain what makes someone kinky then. Let me in on the secret.”

“Well, let’s just say the justice likes to play dress up now and then. He also likes to implement toys during our time together. He often brings a sack of dress ups and we take on roles. It can be quite fun actually.” Edmund’s jaw had dropped so I told him to shut his mouth.

“This is all new to me, I suppose I need to find a robe and gavel then so we can a play at these games, hmm it does sound intriguing.” He teased.

“Yes, sometimes he has me dressed as school boy and sometimes as a nun, other times he wants me made up like the prostitute I am.”

“He calls me his dirty little wench and slaps my ass, but it’s really hilarious because he is finished quicker than you! The man salivates from the moment he enters my room withdrawing the day’s toys for our games.”

“Wow, I don’t even know what to say, Judge Carey, municipal by day, pervert by night.”

The day had taken a delightful turn, Edmund was more than interested in my clients and I thought of it as more teaching for him. We bought ice creams and fed the ducks our cones while sitting for a bit watching the children sailing tiny handmade boats.

“Now that man can’t be one of your clients.” Across from us were a man and wife, sharing a picnic amongst eight children.

“Actually, he comes every Wednesday at noon.” I laughed, but it was true.

“What!” Edmund protested, it can’t be, why he looks happily married, look at all those lovely children!”

“That’s precisely why he comes to me. The Mrs. doesn’t want any more children and has turned him out from her bedroom. He is hornier than you ever were, by the time he gets to me he is already hard. One time he couldn’t even make it to my bed; he jumped me with his pants on!” I laughed at the memory.

“I suppose it’s quicker that way.” Edmund didn’t really know what to say.

“It is, and he always pays me for the full hour although he doesn’t stay longer than twenty minutes. Sometimes he likes it twice.” I winked.

“Well, this is all very eye opening. Please, please tell me you have never had my dad, I just couldn’t live if he had been with you.”

“No, I haven’t, actually most men in town are upstanding, I have propositioned many with invitations but I have twenty or so regulars and that keeps me in room and board.”

“Does Mr. Smith know? He owns the tavern right?”

“Of course he knows, he is one of my better customers. I actually don’t mind him, he takes care of himself and smells nice, he doesn’t have a woman he leaves to come see me, and it pains him that I do this for a living, but he understands.”

“So far we have, black, horny, and kinky….how would you classify me?” Edmund asked.

“You are by far my best student!” I pecked Edmund on the cheek, took note of the time and said I had to be back by two thirty. When Edmund asked why, I scolded him and told him if he was to be my friend he would have to let it rest. I wasn’t going to tell him anything more.

“Ok fine, but I do have one more question. How do you keep from getting pregnant? Doesn’t it worry you?”

“I soak a sponge with vinegar and take a tonic every day. It worked for my mother, I was the only time she got pregnant and she had far more clients than I do.” My monthlies came regularly now, but I was unconcerned with getting pregnant, the men often pulled out in fear of just that. Besides, the tonic I took was said to be very potent and I drank it faithfully.

That explained the vinegar smell in her apartment.

Edmund grabbed my hand and pulled me towards a bench to sit once more.

“Gert, please don’t do this anymore. Allow me to help you somehow. You are so young and beautiful; you claim to be sixteen but I am certain that is a lie. I know if you let me we could find something else for you.”

“If I say I am sixteen, then I am sixteen. Who says I want anything else, who do you think you are anyway, my savior?” Edmund was looking at me differently now. I would turn fourteen next month, I was on my own and doing my best to survive. I wish he would just leave it alone.

“No, I certainly don’t think I am anyone’s savior but I wish I could help you.”

“I don’t need help and I don’t want your judgment. The only time I feel any shame at all for what I do is when I am judged, and that’s what you are doing right now.” I stood to leave.

“It’s just I want you for myself. Can you understand that?”

“I understand you are a jealous fool, who I thought was my friend, I was wrong. If you want to spend time with me take me as I am and don’t try to change me. Nothing makes me feel more like a prostitute than someone who wants to save and change me.” I stood and took my leave.

Edmund ran after me, “I am jealous, okay? I am jealous of any man who lays his hands on you. I know it’s what you do to survive, but Jesus, Gert, is that all you want from life?”

I smacked him hard across the face and hoped it left a mark that he would have to explain to his dear Sarah. What a bastard, trying to change me.

“Fuck you. The last thing I need is a martyr in my bed.” I said and stormed away.

***

I was ready for my three o’clock client when the door opened at two o’clock, a deputy to the sheriff stood before me with a baton in his hand.

What the fuck was this? I was scared I was going to be arrested, who had ratted me out, and all my clients were on the up and up.

“Settle down, little lady.” The wormy man edged his way into my room closing the door and locking it behind him.

“See I have been watching you for a while now, I find it quite interesting all the comings and goings from here.” He patted the baton on his leg.

“Well, we do take-out orders for the restaurant; so many people love our food.” It was a lousy excuse but the first thing I could think of.

“It seems to me you’re serving more than food, so I came to see what the fuss was.” He moved closer towards me and began taking off his shirt. He admired me from afar, holding me in his smarmy gaze while blocking the door.

“I am sorry, sir, but you have the wrong idea about me, I don’t know what you think, I work as a barmaid is all. Please leave.” I moved to the far side of my bed, flashbacks of my mom’s apartment filling my mind with dread.

“Uh huh, I see. You’re just a poor little barmaid. How about we give up the charade and you give me a little something that will help keep my mouth shut and keep you from the slammer, hmm? That sound like a good little idea?”

The heathen was upon me, taking off my shirt and ripping at my skirt, not caring to unfasten my buttons.

“You’re quite the beauty; I see why the men like you. Nice size breast, not too fat around the middle, you even smell nice.” He murmured to himself.

I was shaking in this man’s presence. He pinched my breasts and my middle, rubbing his hands down my legs before circling and appraising me.

“Yes, you’ll do just fine.”

The man had caught me completely off guard and I scrambled to think what to do, he was smothering my mouth so I couldn’t scream.

I noticed he was soft, until he slammed my head against my bed frame. Then he grew a tad, but still not enough. I had time and I looked around the room for something, anything that I could whack this guy with.

But he was too strong. He threw me up against the bed and straddled me, holding me down with one arm and working on himself with the other.

“Ha, you are pathetic, can’t even get hard.” I spit in his face.

He hit me hard across the cheekbone and I felt the bones in my upper jaw crack and my lips split, I tasted the blood too.

He was hard now and began his assault immediately. One hand was over my mouth and the other fondling my breasts. He kissed me across my neck, even lapping at the blood running from my split cheek.

“Nice girl, pretty girl, be quiet, that’s right.” He was coaxing me I knew because I could feel him softening again.

I started to smirk at the notion and he hit me with his fist this time, my eyes rolled backward into my head and I lost sense of time and place for a moment. His grunting brought me back; I kicked and bucked, trying desperately to get him off me.

The more I bucked and fought, the rougher he became and the more he liked it. He flipped me onto my stomach exposing my buttocks, parting my cheeks and entering my backside without any lubricant, I stifled a scream into my pillow. He was tearing at my insides, but if I screamed he would hit me again. If I let him have his way he would be soft again.

He knew this too so he taunted me, “You’re just a no good slut, aren’t you? A little slut without a mommy and daddy huh? Well you’re my little slut now. I’ll fuck you any way I want and you’ll take it, won’t you?”

He hit me again and pulled my hair from behind, bending me in an awkward position thrusting deeper into me.

“I said, you’ll be my little slut won’t you, you fucking wench?”

Finally he finished and he wiped the sweat from his brow. I got a good look at him and noted all the scarring he had across his chest.

“Oh, you like that? Good, cuz you’re about to get some, slut that you are. You need redemption now for your sins.”

He pulled his belt loose from the pants draped across my chair and held it over me. To my surprise he turned it so he held the leather stripping in one hand and the metal buckle down loose. He flapped it once in the air before whipping himself across the chest with it several times drawing blood. Then he turned it on me.

“See we are all just a bunch of sinners here in this room. We need to repent, beg for forgiveness. Maybe if you beg me I’ll go easy on you this time.”

I cried my heart out to him, “Please leave, I promise I will go to confession, I’ll do anything you want, please just leave.” I suddenly thought of Edmund’s offer to help.

He whipped me over and over across my breasts, my nipples bled, my skin tore open, and then he turned the buckle on himself, cursing himself all the while. He whipped his member over and over and then turned the whip back to me. He flipped me over once again, putting the belt to my bottom, whipping me and then himself in turn. I pleaded no more, but closed my eyes and begged to die.

“Open your eyes girl. I said open your eyes, god damn it.” He was hovering over me.

“That’s right, when you see me on the streets, and you will, you don’t know me understand? I gave you thirty lashings this time, but I can promise you that’s nothing compared to what you’ll get if anyone finds out about this. I mean anyone, not even pretty boy Edmund. So you just go on and tell everyone you’re sick until you feel better.”

His face haunted me, his eyes had no mercy or empathy, I forced my eyes to remain open, refusing to let him steal my dignity. I could hardly breathe from the pain and noted he was in agony too; he beat himself as savagely as he beat me with the belt. Blood pooled at his feet, and he dressed carefully, walked slowly, using the sparse furniture I had as a brace. He left the room and I fainted.

Someone was pounding at my door, I could hear it echoing, everything was so far away, I tried opening my eyes but it was next to impossible. When I woke I was in the hospital.

Chapter 12 Edmund

 

“Eddie, dear, someone is at the door for you.” Sarah called to me through the house.

“Won’t you please come in sir, I am sorry; I didn’t catch your name.” Sarah was polite as always even if it was the first black man to approach her door.

I rounded the corner to find Josiah standing in the entry-way speaking with Sarah; he had his cap across his chest and was politely refusing a glass of lemonade.

“Hi, do I know you?” I asked, quietly solicitous.

“Edmund, dear, don’t be so rude, this kind man came asking after you. Take him to the sitting room, won’t you.” Sarah pointed the way and left us to converse.

“Come in, Josiah, is it?” I led him to our sitting room, curiosity getting the better of me.

We settled ourselves across from one another rather awkwardly.

“What can I do for you, Josiah?” I asked with great interest.

“Sir, we have a problem.” He stammered when he spoke.

“Why I don’t even know you, how could we have a problem?” I was baffled.

“It’s Miss Gert, she has been badly hurt. We have to go to her right now.” His expression was full of anguish and I knew it must be bad if he came all the way here to get me.

“Okay, okay, just a minute.”

“Mom,” I called out frenetically to Sarah, “I need to help Josiah with a few things; I won’t be gone too long.”

We took my carriage into town and tied the horses to the tavern posts. We took the back steps two at a time to Gert’s room. What lay before me was horrific.

Gert lay in a puddle of blood; she had been ravaged, beaten, raped and tormented. She was unconscious at present.

“What the hell? Who did this?” I ran to her bedside and begged her to wake up.

“Gert! Gert! Sweetheart, wake up!”

BOOK: Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider
13.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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