Chapter 1

George, my husband, asked for a divorce. I wasn’t able to hear him. I was yelling at Ridley. “You stole your sister’s shoes? They don’t even fit you?”

“He sniffs them, Mom. I think he gets off on them.”

“Hey, I don’t do anything to them!” My son shook both of the narrow, canvas shoes at Peg his sister. “Mom! She acts so goody-goody but she torments me when you and Dad have a date night.”

“I do not - unless you cross me first!” Peg eyes trembled at me. “He’s lying!” She plainly lied. She was fourteen. Ridley was thirteen. George and I had planned them to be close in age, so they would get along. My womb served them up on schedule, but there was no joy in the Fairchild family. Our children had fought over which tit to drink from, before they’d said their first word.

Instead of Mommy or Daddy, she spat her first word at her brother, “Dummy!” A few weeks later, he called her, “Baybee,” Mangling and drawing out the word.

George and I had to pry them apart several times a week. That was the scope of our joy of parenting - for fourteen and thirteen exhausting years. George ran out of joy first. “Leen! I said I can’t take this marriage anymore!”

I’m Colleen, but what used to be a charming nickname had become a bitter sound that scraped my ears! I turned from our terrible teens and calmed into utter coldness. “Oh, no, George Fairchild. I took your name. I promised to love and care for you. It may have been a two hundred dollar ring and the ceremony was in your parents’ backyard, but it meant something to me! You don’t get to back out until I kick you out.”

He instantly got defensive. “My folks backyard is a freaking National Forest!”

“Then I guess it was just our luck that the Forest Service leased the property to the local paper mill, a week before our wedding. The ground was covered in dying branches, except for the hundreds of holes where trees used to be!”

“Don’t you take crap from her, Daddy!” Peg encouraged. “She probably pretends to have orgasms.”

“Shut up, you teen witch!” Ridley barked at his sister.

I wanted to run from the room and cry, but I didn’t have the energy. I trudged past my suffering husband. Peg said something stupid to Ridley. I rounded the corner to the front entryway when I hear my husband sigh. I plucked my keys from the hook and barely remembered my purse. Our children kept yammering at each other.

I was careful to the lock the door behind me. Reaching our old Volvo, I slunk into the driver’s seat and let the dam break.

The drive to the shoreline is lost to me. I cut the engine in the park’s lot and resumed crying. George and I had decent jobs, a failing marriage, and two psychopathic children. I rolled down the window to catch the ocean breeze. It stank of dying fish and decaying seaweed.

You ran away again. My mind scolded me. You yelled at your husband and ran away. I rebutted myself. Only because he didn’t run away first. George had actually stood up for himself. Right in the middle of a normal fight between our kids, he’d stood his ground and declared he wanted a divorce.

Well, I wanted one too, but the numerous complications which arise when a married couple with children contemplate divorce are like a landslide on your soul. I had to pull a fresh tissue from my purse, but when I blew my nose, it escaped my trembling fingers and flew out of the window! Snot soiled empty hands.

“Hey, Lady! Don’t be throwing garbage out of your car.” A deep voice scolded.

I looked up from my grossly coated hands and looked across the parking lot. A grey haired, black man glared back at me. “Pick that up, Lady. I don’t care if you have to chase it into the ocean and drown. I may be down on my luck, but I put my trash in a can.”

“I-I’m sorry. The wind-” I started, but the large man’s eyes held no mercy. I unlocked the door with gooey hands and climbed out. The tissue had caught in a small bush, fortunately. I stumbled over to it and bent down. He strode up to me like a park ranger. Seeing me shrink from his imposing presence, he grinned an awful grin. “Nice tits, Lady.”

“Hey!” I grabbed the neckline of my top. Snot soaked into the frayed cotton. The blouse was old, and I only wore it around the house. The top button had popped off long ago, but I never found the right time to afix the spare. I did pluck the tissue from the bush, but a little piece tore off. I straightened. Where was the trash can? I looked around. I managed to wipe a little goo off of my hand.

“You didn’t get it all.”

I faced him. “I will. I just need a moment.” That first moment I spent sizing up the bold man. He was tall, maybe six feet something, taller than George, wider too. He claimed to be down on his luck, but his clothes were clean enough for a walk along the shoreline. The stench of the shoreline masked whatever he smelled like. I thought he had been muscular once, but his arms and legs were puffy. He wasn’t very fat. His tummy bulged somewhat though. His gray, kinked hair was balding. I guessed he was in his early fifties. I was forty three, and I wished my skin was as smooth as his which was black like milk chocolate. Mine might have been peach, but stress made it look whiter.

“You’ve been crying.” He observed.

“Leave me alone. I’ll get the damn shard.” I bent down. A large hand grabbed my right elbow.

“Let me look at you.” He threatened. At least I took it as a threat. His voice remained strong without anger.

“Let me go.” I asked.

“First tell me why you were crying. I got all day.” His hand loosened a little but George wouldn’t have had strength enough to escape the black man’s grip.

I wanted to tell him off, but I had no strength in my heart. “My husband wants a divorce.”

“Tell him no.” He replied instantly, firmly.

“Please let go of me.”

His eyes flashed at me. His hand opened. “Stay right there.”

I didn’t dare budge.

He bent down and combed the shard of tissue off the bush. He ground it in his hand and put it in his mouth. He stood while chewing on it. “You got any food?”

“No. Do you want the money in my purse?” I hoped that by offering cash, he might take it and go.”

“Yeah, but I want to talk more. This way.” He started walking to the trash can. I fell in behind him.

Reaching the can, he opened the lid. I dropped the soiled tissue within, and he covered it. He hadn’t said anything. Turning around, he walked to my car. “How long you been married?”

“Seventeen years.”

“Got kids?”

I couldn’t tell him that. “No.”

He halted and spun around. “Let me check.” His paws tugged the top of my blouse open without ripping it. “Just a sec.” He reached in, and with incredible dexterity for the size of his fingers, he unfastened the front clasp of my bra.

“Hey! I’ll scream.”

“You got nothing to scream about. I’m just checking.” His meaty fingers hefted both of my somewhat sagging breasts. “If you do scream, I’ll act all innocent and everyone will think you’re a fucking Karen.”

I sputtered a nothing word.

“I thought so.” He pulled his hand out of my blouse and frowned. “Those had milk in them, lots of it.”

I kept silent, ducking my head.

“I don’t care about your fool kids, Lady. My first wife and I were married for a couple years. She got preg and left me because I was no daddy material.” He continued to the car and opened the driver’s door. “Gimme the keys.”

“You’re taking my car?”

“No. I’m driving us out of this shit-hole park.” He climbed in and stared at me.

“They’re in the ignition.” I felt worse and worse about my fate, but for some insane reason, I kept letting this stranger make decisions for me.

“Get in.” He tilted his head towards the seat beside him.

I turned to go around to the opposite door. He leaned out and caught my belt. “Not that way. Crawl over me.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

He shrugged and tugged, causing me to stumble into the open doorway. “Now duck down and crawl over my lap.”

I looked around. The park wasn’t empty, but everyone was at the shore, not dawdling in the parking lot. If I was going to scream, now was the last chance I might ever get. I bent my head and shrunk my shoulders together. He leaned back and let go of my belt as I placed my hands on his left thigh and ducked into the cabin. I reached forward and lifted a knee, taking my first step with it onto his thigh.

He grabbed me by the seat of my britches and hauled me to his right. I collapsed across his lap, feet flailing outside. My thighs landed on his right thigh.”Hey!”

“Hey you, Lady. Hold still. Gotta make sure you didn’t break anything.” I felt his hands reach under my thighs. He grunted once, and it felt like he was tugging on his trousers. “It’s okay.” He pulled his hands out from under me.

My right thigh felt something stiff poking from his groin! “Eww!” I screeched and scrambled over his now tented lap. When I could swivel my feet into the well, I considered opening the door on my side and fleeing!

He grunted a laugh and switched on the engine and closed his door with a thunk! “Put your belt on, Lady.” He grabbed his seatbelt from over his left shoulder and extended it to the latch. “We don’t want to get pulled over.” Gunning the engine leapt the car into reverse but without the tires squealing. He spun the wheel, backing out of the space. Then we shot forward. I was still fumbling to put the belt in its latch. Click!

He kept to a slow speed appropriate for driving out of the park. My heart was racing! “Where are you taking me?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Home?”

“Not right away. You’re not ready for that.”

“Please. You can take the car.”

“Now what kind of fool do you think I am? I keep shy of the law. I may be just another nigger to you, but people know me at that park.”

I complained. “I don’t even think that word!” Finally, I had something to stand up to him about.

We officially left the park, passing the shunted nighttime barrier. “How about a hotel? You got a good credit card?”

“I don’t want -- that.” He understood my pause.

“Yeah, well you damn well know I do.”

“This is kidnapping, please-”

“What? Don’t make it worse?” He snorted. “I ain’t gonna rape you, Lady. We can do it in the back seat, if you can’t afford a hotel. I know a alley not far from here. It’s real private.”

“Just stop the car and let me out!” I begged.

“Now what kind of good is that gonna do you?” He scolded. “Now, I am not saying that a good fuck will fix your life, or even pull you from your misery much, but it won’t hurt, and I want compensation for helping you.”

“How are you helping me?”

He shook his head and made a “TCH” sound.

“I won’t.” I cringed while trying to muster defiance.

He made the sound again.

“Shade Palm Motel” The rusted sign said. Green letters stained a mottled, white sign. He parked in a spot next to the office. The place maybe had a dozen rooms, five rooms on the ground floor, seven above. There were two other cars in the lot. One was a beat up brown truck. The second was a Chevy Bolt glistening with smugness.

He handed my purse to me. “Take out your card and license. Get a second floor room. Call the cops if you want.”

Numb, I exited my car and walked like a zombie. This was my chance to escape a rapist! It was just that he didn’t act like any rapist I ever read about or saw on a show, not even pornos.