Chapter Seventeen
For a longtime I was stationed behind a cluster of trees, kitty-corner to the small duplex on Vrain Street. I knew they were together because his motorcycle was parked in the driveway. Since the night before, he’d never stayed more than two hours with her, but now Raven Harris had seduced him. What a fitting name for a predator who stalked her prey, sinking her nails into them, seizing them, and then destroying them. After their ruination, she feasted on their decaying spirit and soul. Like the bird, Raven Harris should be feared.
It was late, and blackness filled the windows of the other houses in the neighborhood. From my vantage point, I could see her window and the curtains billowing in the night’s breeze. As I stood there watching and listening, low guttural sounds mingled with the crickets’ chirping and drifted on the wind around me. At first I wasn’t sure what I was hearing, but then realization set in and my stomach soured and twisted as the moans of their fucking assaulted me. It sounded like pigs. Dirty, filthy pigs.
Even though I was sure there were some couples engaged in sexual intercourse behind the darkened windows of some of the other houses in the vicinity, all my focus was on the front house of the duplex. The houseshelived in. And I blamed her entirely for the disgusting things they were doing. How could I not? How could any man resist such a temptress? He couldn’t; he was powerless to her bewitching charms. And the clothes she wore would entice any man.
No, she was the evil one.
As I worked myself up over her evil ways, I saw her at the window looking out. The streetlight on the corner illuminated her face as the wind caught her disheveled hair, blowing it in toward the darkness behind her. I had to admit that, at that moment, she was striking and sexy. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t a whore who deserved to die.
“Enjoy the little time you have left,” I said, my voice louder than I’d wanted.All I need is for someone who’s taking their damn dog out for a walk to hear me.The thought was a poignant reminder of how much time had passed since I’d seen Mother. “I love hearing you speak your mind,” I said in a near perfect imitation of Mother’s voice. She used to say that to me all the time when she’d walk in on me having a perfectly sane conversation with myself. The remembrance made me smile; I hadn’t thought of it in a long time.
If I had to be utterly honest, I preferred talking to myself because I was always guaranteed an attentive audience. I laughed when I remembered how I’d been chatting away in the elevator of my apartment building when I’d lived in South Dakota. The door had opened and an unpleasant old woman stepped in. When she saw the elevator was empty except for me, the surprised look on her face had been priceless and I started laughing. She’d turned to me and said, in a very rude tone, “If you keep doing that, people are going to think you’re lonely or mentally ill. I’ve seen you talking to yourself many times. I think you’re a nut.” The last sentence was spewed out with such venom and contempt that I knew I’d have to make her see how hurtful words could be.
And I’d done that, two weeks later, on a cold winter night. I’d been lucky that her apartment was across from mine so I could watch her comings and goings through the peephole. That night, she’d stepped out of her apartment with her mangy dog on a leash and went down to the wooded area behind the building. I’d followed her and reminded her how horribly she’d spoken to me. The old woman had looked confused for a split second before the steel pipe crushed her skull. Of course, she didn’t argue with me since she was lying in a pool of her own blood, but had I spared her, I’m almost sure she would’ve understood how hurt I’d been by her cruel words.
“There’s nothing crazy about talking to yourself,” I said, glancing around to make sure I was still the only one at the corner of Vrain and Utica.
Glancing back at the window, I noticed it was closed and she was gone. I’d gotten caught up with my thoughts and memories and hadn’t even seen her shut it.
I strained my ears to pick up any sound, but there was nothing but silence. “Are they still fucking? The bitch closed the window, so I have no way of knowing for sure.” I was getting madder as the minutes passed, and when I looked at my watch and saw I’d been there for four hours, I knew. He was spending the night with the cunt.
“Noooo!” My howls shattered the quiet of the neighborhood. “Nooooo!”
A few lights flickered on, their glow on the lawns like yellow patches. I pulled back and ducked down low as a couple of blinds opened and faceless people looked out into the darkness. My heart was racing, my pulse pounding.I have to get out of here!But I didn’t move a muscle. I just waited… waited until the lights turned off intermittently, until the smudged figures moved away from the windows, until silence descended on the area once again.
Then I gulped in the night air, filling my lungs deeply. I walked to my car and drove off. And when I was several miles away, I pounded the dashboard, cursing so loudly I feared my vocal chords would break.
The bitch has to go… soon.
