The Merry Pranked (13 page)

“Not really. I was researching you.”

Gail was watching him closely, determined to gauge his reaction to this, and he knew that. This was one of the games she liked to play; he’d figured out from the short time he’d known her; she liked to shock and now that she had shocked she liked to enjoy the discomfort it often brought.

“I’ve done quite a few interviews over the years,” he said. “My books have done well.”

“Artists or writers talking about their craft,” she said. “Is there anything more boring than that?”

“Some find it interesting.”

“Never underestimate the dullness of the public in general. I could care less about your writing, Leslie. I was researching you. Your past. Your demons.”

Gail paused again to watch him closely. She smiled. He figured that was because as best as he tried not to, he did react, a brief moment of anger crossing his face.

“You’re angry,” she said.

“This snooping thing of yours,” he asked, “it endears you to how many guys?”

“You can’t handle it?”

She was actually challenging him; this woman was fearless.

“I can handle whatever you throw at me,” he said. “Does that bother you?”

“We share violence,” she said. “Our pasts. I wanted to know.”

“And what did you discover?”

“You were there that night. Did you witness what happened?”

I can handle whatever you throw at me,
he thought,
what the hell was I thinking?

It’d been a long time since he’d shared the story of that night with anyone. A long time back he had done so often with different Survivor groups (although for some reason he never actually mentioned witnessing members of his family being shot; almost as if in some strange way they would blame him for doing nothing to stop it). It hadn’t taken long for him to realize talking about it wasn’t doing anything for him; others in the group seemed to be gaining some benefit from sharing their stories, but not him. Eventually he just stopped talking about it and going to meetings. Other than Walter, he really shared nothing with others, even girlfriends. Donna, who had been with him for a while, she knew what had happened to his family, and she knew he had been there in the house at the time, but had never asked him to elaborate. She had been smart enough to realize there was no upside in pushing him to talk about something he didn’t want to talk about; he figured she’d hoped he’d open up to her when he felt the time was right; she hadn’t expected he would just close right down instead.

“You did witness it, didn’t you?” she asked.

“And you want the story, right?”

Gail nodded her head.

“What’s the point of going over all of it again?”

“A push.”

“A push?”

“I’ve been contemplating what you had to say about revenge.”

“Haven’t we all ready discussed this? Besides, I was just talking out of my ass, that’s all.”

“The newspapers stated that the police suspected your Father’s partner in crime, Morgan Neil, was responsible for your family’s demise? They couldn’t pin anything on him or his underlings. They got away with murder. If you were there and witnessed it, you could put them away, but you haven’t. Do you know who killed your family? Did you see them?”

Leslie had no way of knowing Gail had printed off his F.B.I. flow chart of the Morgan organization with the four men circled in red. Had no way of knowing she had all ready deducted the answer to her questions before asking them; that this was just part of her process; the game she liked to play.

“I didn’t see anything,” he said. He really didn’t want to go into it, so lying seemed like the best course of action.

“But you know who they are, don’t you? You know who they are and they’re still out there killing, aren’t they? They’re out there living the life your family wasn’t given the chance to live. I mean, I read about your father, he was one serious killer and probably deserved what he got, but not your mother and brother and sister. They were innocents.”

“You don’t know jack-shit about my father,” he said, a little more anger in his voice than he’d hoped to have.

“Two words - Dwayne Turner,” she said.

She was pushing it, and she probably knew it. If he opened up to her, she won, and if he didn’t and lost his cool, she probably won as well. Either way, she’d probably be tickled pink. He didn’t know how to handle this, so he remained silent.

“You’ve never thought of taking them out yourself?” she asked.

Of course he had, and she knew it; she’d heard him talking about revenge. This was all just part of the game.

“To what purpose?” he asked.

“The revenge you were talking about,” she said. “You know an eye for an eye.”

“We’re not living in Biblical times.”

“Those who believe that they are exclusively in the right are generally those who achieve something,” she said.

Leslie just looked at her, puzzled. He had no idea what she was getting at.

“Aldous Huxley, the author,” she said. “You know you’d be in the right seeking revenge. Maybe you don’t know that. Maybe what’s holding you back are your sense of morals? You don’t really believe in revenge, despite all your talk about it; you don’t think it’s right so you’re holding back, achieving nothing.”

“Maybe it’s just not in me,” he said. “As a child of violence, am I expected to embrace violence in my life? Make it a part of my life?”

“Our destinies find us.”

Gail Russell, who in the hell was she?
Last week he didn’t even know she existed. A press release crossed his desk, and he spent a night having unconventional sex with her. She was still really a stranger to him. He didn’t know her and she was expecting him to just open up to her – and without really telling him anything about herself. It was time to fight back.

“You’re the boldest woman I know,” he finally said. “You speak your mind and you don’t hold back. Based on that, we’re to think you’re an open book, aren’t we? Not afraid of anything. But it’s all a facade, isn’t it? You’re only bold and forthcoming when discussing others. You’re desperately trying to peel away the layers that make up me, but when I ask about your past, you’re a closed book. What about your violence? What is it that fucked you up? Care to share your story?”

“We were talking about you.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, “because when it comes to you and your demons, you’re a coward.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I need the ladies room,” said Gail as she stood up.

Leslie watched her walk away; maybe he had pushed too hard. Maybe she just got what she deserved. He didn’t know, and at that particular moment, he really didn’t give a damn.

chapter
THIRTEEN

gail
PICKED
up the knife her Daddy had given her to play with. She was only seven-years-old, but no stranger around knives; her Daddy had seen to that. It had slipped out of her hand, which it sometimes did. She had a few marks on her body where she’d accidentally cut herself, but nothing too deep. Her Daddy said they’d help build character. All she knew was he had cuts and now so did her – she was just like her Daddy.

She picked up the knife, which had fallen beside the body of the dead man. He was lying there on the floor of his camper on his stomach, all bled out. Daddy had seen to that. He’d also cut open the dead man’s shirt to expose his back to her. He set her down there, along with the knife and told her to practice her cutting; she really wasn’t up to it today; she was tired, but she also didn’t want to disappoint her Daddy. Half-heartedly she picked up the knife and began randomly stabbing it into the man’s back; not deep, just the point going in. She just didn’t want to play today.

“Please! I’ll do whatever you want. Please, just don’t hurt my girls.”

She was distracted by the woman. She was at the other end of the camper sitting in a chair and holding her daughters close to her. She was crying and a little bloodied from where her Daddy had hit her across the face several times. It always took a couple of hits to bring them under control. Standing before them was her Daddy, a big bulk of a man. In one of his hands he held the bloodied knife, dripping on the floor, joining its owner who was all ready sprawled out dead on it. Why he had attempted to fight her Daddy, she didn’t know. The men always tried to fight him, but were never as good as her Daddy. They never really looked like they knew what they were doing, whereas her Daddy knew exactly what he was doing. As far as she was concerned, he was the toughest man in the whole of the land.

While the man had been trying to hurt her Daddy, the woman, who was now crying and trembling before him, had jumped on her Daddy’s back. Gail knew that wasn’t a good idea. The woman had been on her Daddy’s back at the same time her Daddy was driving his knife deep into the man’s stomach. The minute the man went down her Daddy shook the woman off his back and proceeded to punish her for being difficult. She had been bad - she was interfering with men’s business.

All of them had made a god-awful racket, but that really didn’t matter; her Daddy was careful, he had scouted out this family, who had decided to set up camp in a remote area of the park. They probably thought it was nice to get away from everyone; they just hadn’t counted on her and her Daddy. It was a good thing anyway. It’d been a long time since her Daddy had punished anyone; a long time since he had taken out his thingy and poked anyone with it. That always made him a little crazy and on edge. He tended not to treat her as well when he went too long before punishing the bad people.

The woman was still pleading for the safety of her daughters. Both appeared to be teenagers, which was bad news for them. Her Daddy never discriminated; if they were old enough he was willing to poke them with his thingy.

She listened as her Daddy told the woman that if she cooperated he’d spare her daughters. This seemed to quiet her down a little bit; Gail knew it was a lie, her Daddy was going to take care of them as well, and when he was finished he’d take his knife and poke them some more. He told her they were evil – bad girls that deserved what was coming to them. He’d also told her it was all right to lie to people like that as they were evil and you had to do that to protect yourself against them.

The woman calmed down as her Daddy used duct tape to tie up her daughters; their hands behind their backs and their legs secured as well. He then had the Mom strip naked and proceeded to tie her hands behind her back. She began to sob again, as did her daughters, when her Daddy started to strip. It wasn’t long before he had the woman bent over a small table in the camper and was poking her hard with his thingy. As he was doing so, he looked over at the daughters and said, “You’ll both have your turn.” This seemed to upset the woman, who attempted to struggle harder, but her Daddy had her well secured and was holding her down by the neck; at one point he pulled her head up and then slammed it back down against the table hard. The woman seemed to lose a little bit of her fight after that, although her daughters, now with duct tape across their mouths, seemed to renew their crying and moaning.

If people only knew that no one ever got the better of her Daddy, they might just settle down and let him do what he was supposed to do. Sometimes you just had to face your punishment and take it like a man; at least that’s what her Daddy had told her.

Her Daddy looked over at her.

“Gail, concentrate on your stabbing now dear,” he said, as he continued poking the woman. She went back to work poking the man with the end of her knife. She was tired, but she did want to make her Daddy proud.

Gail stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Leslie was waiting for her back at the table. He was different; suddenly things she hadn’t thought of for a long time were coming back to her. She had wanted him to remember his past, but it had backfired.

The two of them made their way along the city street. It was late, but like any major city, there were still a few people out and about. Gail had returned to the table, and they had finished their meal in peace, mainly because both of them had dropped their previous topic. She needed time to regroup and re-evaluate Leslie.

“You’re different,” she finally said.

“Pardon me?”

“From most of the men I meet,” she said. “They’re usually easier to control. Their desires are primitive, no matter what their station in life.”

“Is that so?”

“They find you attractive, even a little bit, and all they want is sex.”

“If you recall, you’re the one who suggested sex, not me.”

“And I enjoyed it. You seemed different. We shared a dark past. It seemed right.”

They continued walking in silence. Leslie couldn’t help thinking that that was the first and only time his past had gotten him laid. He could use it for sympathy, but never sex, or so he thought. Somehow it just didn’t seem right.

“Have you ever taken LSD?” she asked him.

“Not much of a drug guy,” he said.

“Would you care to try,” she asked. “It has the ability to reveal truths in this world. It’s opened my eyes.”

“I don’t know,” he said. He never had been much of a druggie, even in his teen years when it was expected he’d experiment, at least with pot; it just hadn’t appealed to him. What did appeal to him, however, were these ‘truths’ she spoke about. Were they imagined or real?

“What truths are you talking about?” he asked.

“You’d have to try it to know,” said Gail.

Men were stupid; he knew that. If she wasn’t an attractive woman who had all ready slept with him, and who might just do so again, he wouldn’t even be contemplating taking LSD. But she was and so was he.

“Should we go back to my place?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “There’s a park near here. Let’s go there. It’s a safe place and it’ll give you a chance to observe the world. It’s only by doing that that you’ll discover the truths.”

“I must be nuts,” he said, not really to her. She chose to ignore that remark.

Leslie looked at the city; the motion of the city, as it seemed to flow effortlessly as if in sync with the beauty of the night; he always enjoyed the night, it seemed calm and tranquil. With the drug interacting with his brain, it all seemed better; he was seeing beauty that had escaped him before. Beside him Gail sat on the bench seeing her own world. Where she saw darkness and evil, Leslie’s trip introduced him to light and goodness.

Leslie woke up to sunshine streaming through his bedroom window. A lot about the previous night was hazy to him. After Gail had introduced him to her drug of choice, they had sat on the park bench for a couple of hours, just taking in the city. It had been interesting, but definitely not something he planned on doing again. Life was too short to waste clouding one’s mind. Gail seemed to think LSD revealed the truth to her, but she was fooling herself. It did what it was meant to do – warp her perspective. Other than an occasional drink, he had lived his life in reality, painful or otherwise, and wanted to keep it that way, beautiful woman or not.

Gail had been disappointed. Her experiment hadn’t yielded the results she was hoping for. Her father had introduced her to drugs; he explained that not only could they help her escape the everyday pain of life, but if she opened her mind, they could also open her eyes to the hidden reality of life; the hidden reality that drove him to punish the women he did and kill the men he did. He’d sometimes had the opportunity to read the newspaper coverage of his deeds – especially if after a kill they hadn’t immediately moved on – and it always amazed him how blind the Press were to the truth, he had told her. They treated his victims as innocent, because they were unable to see the evil within them; they were unable to perceive their true nature and the fact they deserved being punished. He had told her this was a unique talent, the ability to see the truth, and if she wanted to live a fulfilling life, it was up to her to figure out how to embrace it.

There was a lot her Daddy had told her and she had tried to take it all in. After all, if he was able to put a baby inside her, it would be up to her to help educate their child. She loved and respected her Daddy, but it wasn’t until she had become a young woman, that she started to really think about what he said and incorporate it into her life. He would be so proud of her, if he could see her now; knowing she had embraced his philosophies and had found a way to see that truth; she knew she hadn’t failed him.

For some reason, which she didn’t understand, she wanted to share her awareness with Leslie. He was damaged goods. She was damaged goods. They were kindred spirits. She wanted him to see what she saw. She’d tried to introduce him to the true nature of the city, but he just hadn’t seen it; his mind still saw the facade. They had sat there for a couple of hours and then returned to his apartment, where once again they made love. Both of them were still feeling the effects of the drug, and as they made love, she stared intently at his face, as it alternated between angelic and evil; she could clearly see the struggle within him, the good fighting the bad. It was obvious to her that for the longest time the good had ruled the roost, but the bad, it no longer wanted to be ignored. She could see that, but he couldn’t. He’d been suppressing something important within him that needed to be set free, but she wasn’t sure she could set it free. She could try helping him; use her unique talents to do what his true nature wanted, but wasn’t sure she could get through to him; the goodness would just get in the way.
But maybe she could help him in another way; take care of some of those demons for him.

As Leslie’s eyes adjusted to the morning light, he looked to the side to see Gail getting dressed. She was unaware of him watching her.

“Where you going?” he asked. “I was going to make us breakfast.”

“No thanks,” she said. “It’s time to leave.”

“As you know, I make one hell of a breakfast.”

She continued dressing, ignoring him. Leslie watched her. She seemed distant, which didn’t make any sense. They’d made love – sorry, fucked – once again last night. As far as he could tell, all had gone well; they were getting along.

“Can I call you later?” he asked.

Gail looked at him. “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s time to leave. Time to say good-bye.”

“I don’t understand?”

“I’m bored,” she said, now fully clothed. “Time to move on. We had our fun. What’s done is done.”

“Really?” he said.

Once again she ignored him. This was an interesting turn of events; totally unexpected. She hadn’t even been around long enough for him to pull his distant act. He just watched her. What was there to say? They’d shared a good time together and now she wanted to move on; it wasn’t like he’d thought she was the one; he actually really didn’t know all that much about her. In the long run, if she wanted to walk away, it really wasn’t all that big a deal.

“You know,” she said, pausing as she made her way towards the bedroom door, “you have it in you.”

He had no idea what she was talking about.

“The anger,” she said. “The evil. The desire.”

Again, he just looked at her.

“You have it within you to exact revenge,” she said. “It’s there; you just have to find a way to nurture it. Use it. Find a way to remedy your own past. It’s yours for the taking, if you want it. If you have the balls to recognize it.”

That was it. She’d said her piece and without saying anything more, she exited the bedroom. She was a nutcase; it was as simple as that. Leslie lied back down and took in the morning light, a small smile playing across his face. He’d heard it said somewhere, and even though it was a little cruder than he liked, it somehow seemed fitting here:
Bitches be crazy.

Life had been so simple. Leslie had his pain. He was ignorant about a lot of things, but it was simple. Why Gail bothered him and resonated in his mind, he couldn’t understand. He’d only known her for a short period of time, and as intense as it had been, it really shouldn’t have mattered. There was something about her, however, that bothered him; a nagging feeling that she was more than what she pretended to be.