Chapter 5

The early part of the week was kind of a drag because we stayed home for all of the time we were not in school—no movies, no visits to the burger stand, no goofing around with friends. Well, maybe “drag” was not the best way to describe what happened. Dad began to show us a lot of things we didn’t know about self defense. We discovered that the Krav Maga that we had learned was only the tip of the iceberg in what one well trained person could do to another person. Sometimes the practice was really difficult because Beth and I had to work not to hurt each other.

Thursday finally came, and we met Dad at the pond. We didn’t have long to wait before Johnston and George showed up. They exchanged drugs for money, and the conversation turned to the subject of Beth. Johnston asked, “When are you going to snatch the bitch?”

“I don’t know. She has disappeared from her usual haunts. It seems like she is either in school or at home. We haven’t touched her home yet because her parents are always there. Don’t worry, though, we’ll get her one way or another before the end of next week.”

That was when Dad led us to confront the two drug dealers. “Good day, Gentlemen. We have not formally met, so I will introduce myself. My name is James Argo, and it is my daughter whom you are threatening. I take a very dim view of that, and I am here to put a stop to it. Come along quietly with us; we want to ask you two a few questions.”

George said, “Fuck you, buster! You mess with me and you will have more trouble than you can handle.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I learned how to handle thugs like you from practicing on North Koreans and North Vietnamese. Now come along, or we will have to hurt you.”

With that, Johnston turned to run, and Dad said, “Take him, Beth.” That was all of the word she needed to trip Johnston and swat him just hard enough on the back of the neck to knock him out. I think that she may have hit him too hard because we had to drag him to Dad’s car.

Meanwhile, Dad grabbed George by the wrist and gave a quick twist. Suddenly, George was on his knees and whimpering in pain. Dad used a handful of George’s hair to lift him to his feet and frog-march him to the car. Dad put nylon cable ties to their wrists and feet to immobilize them. Johnston was tossed into the trunk and George was seated in the back seat with me beside him. He was anchored in place with the seat belt, and a cloth bag was dropped over his head so that he could not see where we were going.

Dad drove back to Mr. Andrews farm and directly into the barn. One wall of the barn was lined with horse stalls. George was marched to the one at one end of the barn and Johnston was marched to the one at the other end of the barn. I stayed with George while Dad and Mom questioned Johnston. That morning, we had told our parents about our strange power to know what a person under stress was about to do, and we thought that we would know when someone was lying.

Dad said, “Just what we need, the perfect lie detector!” That was why they decided that we would be in on the questioning sessions. As the start of the psychological pressure put on Johnston, Mom and Beth stripped him after Dad had spreadeagled him standing in the middle of the room. That way, Johnston’s body was accessible from all sides. It was part of the strategy for Beth and Mom to belittle his cock and balls as soon as they were visible.

There are a lot of ways to inflict considerable pain without leaving a mark on the victims body, and psychology was one of those ways. Beth said, “My God, look at his cock. No wonder he sells dope, that must be the only way he can get girls to pay him any attention.”

Mom said, “And look at those balls! I’ve seen bigger balls on mice. He’ll never miss them if we cut them off.” Johnston was still wearing the cloth bag over his head, so he could not see what his torturers were doing to him.

Dad said, “Okay, we will start with that if he refuses to answer our questions truthfully. Though I wonder if it will make any difference in his so-called love life. It’s easy to see why he wants to be called Rodney. With a cock like that, he would be laughed out of the locker room if he insisted on being called Rod.

“First question, Rod. Where do you live?”

Beth could tell that he was struggling with the question of whether or not to tell the truth. Finally, he said, “1415 South Wilmac Street, Apartment 4a.” Beth nodded, and Dad went on.

Second question: “What is the full name of your supplier, George?”

“I don’t know.” Beth shook her head.

“Come on, Rod, tell the truth. I will always know when you are lying.”

“You ain’t getting nothing from me, you bastard!”

“Hmm, I guess that you need to know that we are not kidding around. Okay, J, cut off one ball. If he still won’t answer, cut off the other one.”

Mom grinned and picked up a sliver of ice. “My knife is not very sharp, so I may have to saw away a little to get it cut properly.” It is virtually impossible for a person to tell if he is being cut by a dull knife or just marked by a sliver of ice. She grabbed one of Johnston’s balls with her left hand, and dragged the edge of the ice sliver over the skin of his scrotum. She pinched his ball as she simulated cutting so that Johnston would associate the pain with the cutting. Some melted water ran down his skin and his leg, and it felt like blood to Johnston.

Naturally, he screamed, and the sound was heard by George and me. I grinned wickedly, forgetting that George couldn’t see me because his head was covered by that cloth sack.

“Okay, one more time. What is George’s full name?”

“No, I can’t tell you. He’ll kill me.”

“Well, J, it looks like you will have to finish the job.” Mom grinned and grabbed his other ball. She pinched and dragged another piece of ice across his scrotum. Another scream rang out.

“Okay, Rod, do you want us to start chopping off a little bit of your cock every time you don’t answer a question?”

“NO, NO, I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT TO KNOW. JUST DON’T CUT ME ANYMORE.”

That was when the questions and answers began to flow freely. They found out that the other man was George Freeman, and he worked for the 3^rd Street Gang. Furthermore, there were two other pushers in the high school who were fed drugs by different members of the same gang. Their names were given, along with the fact that they both were bench warmers on the football team. Johnston, knew very little about the 3^rd Street Gang, except for his original contact man, Jimmy the Rod, called that because of his preference for the stiletto as a weapon.

Johnston did give the details of how he had found Jimmy the Rod, so we had a good entrance into the 3^rd Street Gang if we didn’t get anything useful from George Freeman. When they finished, Johnston was allowed to get dressed and was retied hand and foot with the nylon cable ties. He was left in that stall and the door was locked. There was no way for Johnston to escape unless he had help or was a miracle worker. Neither one was expected.

We now turned to George. He was stripped and trussed in the same manner as Johnston had been. This guy had the largest cock that any of us had ever seen, so there was no point in using the same words on him as had been used on Johnston. Mom did say, “My God, look at that cock. He must spend his time with cows and horses to get any use out of it. I don’t know if I could cut it off with my knife. I will probably need an ax.”

George cut in with, “I know about the trick with the ice cube, so you can forget that.”

Dad said, “Okay, then, we will skip that part of the psychological work and go directly to inflicting pain. J, see what you can do with his little finger.”

Mom nodded and bent the last part of his little finger at the outer knuckle back toward the palm of his hand. At first, it was only uncomfortable, but it began to hurt significantly as she bent it farther. George began to whimper, and finally the pain got too much for him and he screamed. The way he was tied made it impossible for him to jerk away from her grip.