The Price of Candy (21 page)

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Authors: Rod Hoisington

Tags: #kidnapping, #rape, #passion, #amateur sleuth, #female sleuth, #mistress, #blackmail, #necrophilia, #politician, #stripper, #florida mystery, #body on the beach

BOOK: The Price of Candy
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“He took Momma out no more than twice. Once
for a dinner and once for a movie. From then on, when he came over,
they didn’t leave the house. The first few times, the three of us
would talk or watch TV for a while. They never said anything, but I
knew they wanted me out of there. So, I’d go to my room early and
listen to music. As you’ve probably guessed, they’d end up in her
bedroom.

“As far as I could tell they never did
anything for one another, outside of the bedroom, I mean. I never
heard the word love. If he brought over a bottle, they’d drink it.
But she wasn’t going to use her own liquor. Sometimes he showed up
with pizza or Chinese. She never cooked for him. Of course, she
never cooked all that much for me either.

“He would then disappear for a few weeks. One
time he came over, I think I was fourteen by then, and Momma wasn’t
home. She worked for a printer. She phoned, had to work a double,
wouldn’t be home until midnight. He asked if he could hang around
since he was already out of the house. I took ‘out of the house’ to
mean he was married. That was cool with me. I could play hostess
and I’d be the one to get him a drink or whatever he wanted. He’d
brought a bottle of bourbon. He liked it on the rocks and that’s
easy to fix. I could have a sip if I wanted, he said, but only one
little one and it’d be our secret. I’d snuck into the bourbon years
before and knew I didn’t like the stuff. So that was no big deal. I
fixed a couple for him. He went in and fixed some others.

“He wanted to see my bedroom so we went in
there and he sat beside me on the bed. He really liked my posters
and bedroom junk. I had a real cool scrapbook of rock stars I had
cut out of magazines. So we flipped through that. We listened to my
favorite,
November Rain
. You know,
Guns n’ Roses
? He
wanted to know the name of each star. I said something about the
glamorous life they led. He told me he was going to take me out on
my eighteenth birthday and we’d have some fun. You bet I never
forgot that promise.”

“So George made a move on you in your
bedroom.”

“No, I didn’t say that. He left after an hour
or so. I wished he’d stayed longer. So cool sitting beside the big
guy on my bed. He was real nice.”

“I guess you saw him again.”

“I think it was the very next Saturday. He
phoned Momma, wanted to take us out on his boat for the day. Said
we could go swimming or whatever we wanted. Momma was annoyed and
raised her voice on the phone. She always worked on Saturday and he
should have remembered that. So his big deal invitation amounted to
nothing. A few minutes later, he called back and apologized. He’d
forgotten she had to work. Maybe I’d like to go if I wasn’t doing
anything. I pleaded with Momma. She finally said okay go ahead.

“I was excited. I’d planned to go to the mall
with my immature boyfriend, Jimmie. You know how long it took me to
cancel out on that. So, I fussed with my hair and all. And counted
the minutes until George picked me up.

“I was surprised. The boat wasn’t there in
Lauderdale as I assumed. It was more than an hour away down at
Coconut Grove, near some hammock. He explained a hammock was a
little island or a bunch of trees, or something. It was a small
white fishing boat with two big black motors on the back. In the
front, there was a neat little cabin you could crawl down into with
two V-shaped bunks. Between them was a porta-potty thing.

“George motored way back into the mangroves.
The fishing would be better where it was private with no other
boats to disturb the fish, that’s what he said. I was lost from the
start. I’d no idea where we were and didn’t care. Big George was
responsible for me. He’d take care of me. The day started off
great. We had a little cove all to ourselves. I’ll never forget
jumping off that boat into the water. I swam a little and mainly
worked on my tan. He tried to fish but didn’t seem much interested
in it. When it started to get dark, we were going to come back.
Then the engines wouldn’t start.

“George said not to worry. If he couldn’t get
them running, we could sleep on the boat and he’d find help in the
morning. Fantastic, I thought, sleeping out there overnight would
be totally cool.”

I frowned at Betty Jo. I didn’t like how the
George story was progressing. Of course, he’d been watching and
drooling over her all day. I didn’t want to hear about him getting
his beefy hands on trapped little Betty Jo. As if I was saving her
for myself, but I knew that was crazy. But if I were George, I
wouldn’t have touched her. “So, you’re alone with George out in the
middle of nowhere. It’s getting dark. He pulls the old run out of
gas trick, huh?”

“He never said out of gas, just something or
other wrong. The engines or the motors whatever they call them. I
was secretly hoping he couldn’t fix it and we’d have to stay out
there another day. But it was simply a loose wire or something. He
fiddled around and after awhile he got them running.

“George drove so fast coming back home I
thought he’d get a ticket. It was late and Momma was furious. She
took me into the kitchen and started grilling me about everything
that happened that day. I kept telling her everything was cool. I
had behaved and he never had to yell at me. She still looked plenty
nervous.

“Momma started in on him. As far as she was
concerned, everything went wrong that day. For starters, he knew
damn well she had to work and couldn’t go with him. Plus, she
thought he was taking me to the beach, or for a boat ride or
something. She didn’t like him taking me down to some distant
county and bringing me back after dark. He said he was sorry. I
knew he was eager to go in the bedroom. That’s why he had raced
back. No way, George. She sent me to my room and I could hear her
yelling at him. She was telling him no, for the first time. Momma
told him to get out. I’d never seen her so upset. Eventually
though, all was forgiven and it was back to normal.”

“George sounds like a taker to me, Betty
Jo.”

“I talked about him with Momma once. I
pointed out he never took her anywhere, never gave her anything,
never even did any favors for her. He’s a contractor, for
chrissake. Let him fix up this place. He’s getting plenty of
you-know-what. She said she wasn’t going to trade sex for anything.
‘I’m not an attractive woman.’ I said, Yes you are Momma! She said,
‘Well, I’m not spectacular like you are, Betty Jo, and that man
keeps coming back.’ Didn’t sound very assertive. Maybe she was just
being realistic. Bottom line, Momma loved the arrangement.

“She was using him, she told me. It’s
companionship, someone to drink and laugh with, someone to look
nice for, and something to look forward to. Someday I’d understand
what was going on. It was perfect, he didn’t ask for anything else
from her. Lets himself out in the middle of night. She didn’t have
to look at him in the morning, or have him see her. No washing his
clothes or cleaning up after him. He’s kind to her and they have
nothing to argue about.

“I said he’s rich and we’re poor. Have him
come across with a little help sometimes. You can bet he’d come up
with something to keep the deal humming. I was already fourteen and
thought she was stupid.

“Watching those two during those years, I
learned a lot about sex. No, not about doing it, but the effect it
had on people. The contortions they put themselves through to find
it and keep it. At school, I could just
think
the word
sex—not even say it—and boys would start stammering and running
around in circles bumping into each other. Yet, I felt better about
Momma after that talk. She appeared happy and her head didn’t seem
messed up over the arrangement.”

“That’s quite a story.” I hoped that was the
end of hearing about George. “So you just went your merry way, grew
up, and eventually left home?”

“You really got into this, didn’t you Freddy?
Kind of fun telling it to you and watching you. Actually, there is
a big punch line. Eventually, we saw George less and less, every
month or so at most. I think Momma was beginning to like not having
him there so much. By that time, I was seventeen. I’d graduated and
was Assistant Manager at the Dollar Store. Still lived at home.
Still going steady with Jimmie. He was taller by then and was a way
cool guy.

“Momma saw George maybe once that year. At
that time, he reminded me he was going to take me out on my
eighteenth birthday and we’d have some fun. I already had that
planted in my mind, but figured he had forgotten about it. I had
some money then and as my birthday got closer I bought my first
suit, you know a skirt and short jacket. The woman at Penney’s said
it was the very latest. Cost me two weeks pay. Everyone said I
appeared older anyway I was so tall. I tell you, that suit turned
me into an adult. I paid to have my hair styled and put up, which I
had never done before. Looking like that, I could have gone into
any bar in Lauderdale and not been carded. I hoped George would
like it.

“The morning of my birthday, I waited. Hadn’t
slept much. I crossed my fingers and hoped George would remember.
At that moment, the heavens opened and the phone rang. I was too
nervous to answer. Momma handed me the phone. George would pick me
up at noon. Awesome! When he saw me, I’d knock his eyes out.

“He picked me up but was kind of quiet. Not
one word about my suit or hair. I was excited and dying to know
what he had in store for me. He wouldn’t say. We drove right up to
that huge front entrance to the Beachside Plaza Hotel. You know the
place? I’ll never forget it. A boy my age in a cute little orange
jacket opened the car door for me, which was cool except I didn’t
know what he wanted at first. George and I just walked off and left
the car sitting there in the driveway.

“Another guy in an orange jacket opened the
tall front door for us and we went in this large round lobby. So
large you could have played football in there. Huge columns that
went up high to something like a dome. The floor was like polished
black stone. I thought, don’t slip, Betty Jo. But heels were no
problem for me. And I knew how to put on a slight strut. We walked
across to the elevators. George told me the place was famous for
their dining room. I could picture myself looking good in that
dining room with my new suit. I’d be nervous ordering off a menu.
George would make it all go smooth...wait a minute. An elevator?
‘George, why are we coming up here?’

“He unlocked the door to the room. Was the
surprise in there? I glanced around. Pretty classy. Had its own
microwave, a bar, and everything.

“As soon as George closed the door, he told
me to take off all my clothes.

“Just like that. George! What are you doing?
I looked down at my new suit and up at him. I didn’t understand.
Was he going to surprise me with a bunch of new clothes? Did he
want me to change here in the room so we could go out?

“He wasn’t exactly demanding. He just stood
there and in a normal voice told me to get undressed. He was a big
man. But he wasn’t blocking the door. He wasn’t threatening me. I
was confused. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This didn’t make
any sense. He wasn’t supposed to do this. Adult men weren’t
supposed to tell girls to take off all their clothes. Why weren’t
alarms going off in his head saying he shouldn’t do this?

“Again, he said take everything off. For
chrissake, George! We stared at each other for a minute. I could
see he was nervous. I’d never seen him like that and that made me
even more nervous. I went ahead and took off my new suit. I
stopped. He flipped his hand meaning everything. I took it all off.
He smiled slightly and gawked for a long moment checking me out. I
folded my arms across my chest and stood there feeling silly. I
certainly didn’t want him looking at me. He kicked my suit over
into a corner. My new suit!

“I told him I didn’t want to do anything. Is
that the same as saying no? I told him I wanted out of there. He
said the door was unlocked. I could leave if I wanted. I thought I
was acting grownup by not yelling and screaming.

“I was eighteen that day for chrissake, so I
had fooled around some, but the serious stuff I’d done just with
Jimmie. We’d watched porn flicks together and tried some stuff. So
I wasn’t some naive maiden about to be initiated into dark
unspeakable sexual rites. I knew what was going to happen if I
stayed.

“What I didn’t realize was the rules for men
had changed last night while I was sleeping. Like most teens, there
were certain passages I looked forward to. The age I could get my
driver’s license. The age when I could legally drink. I never
thought much about the age when the sex rules change. In Florida,
the age of consent is eighteen.

“Up until eighteen the law spoke to all
adults for me and said no sex with Betty Jo. Even if she doesn’t
object, keep your hands off. She’s too young to know her own mind.
Then instantly, at the tick of a clock, I’d better know it all
because, ready or not, I became fair game. From then on, the kid
can decide for herself. She’s now free to do what a woman does. Now
she has to deal with men who no longer worry about that law. Men
quite likely to be older and wiser. Okay guys, she’s out there. Say
whatever you want and do whatever you want to get her to cooperate.
Lie to her, tell her you love her, any trick you can think of is
fine. She’s not our problem.

“The law wasn’t going to say no for me any
longer. I had to speak for myself...and I didn’t. I knew I could
say no to George. I’ve said no to boys plenty of times in the past.
Why was I confused about saying no to George?”

“But Betty Jo,” I said, “your choice wasn’t
difficult. You should have kicked and screamed and tried to run out
of there. Whatever it took.”

“All I can say is I decided I didn’t have
that choice. It made sense to me at that frightful time. I know,
Freddy, you always want things nice and neat. Such and such
happened, therefore I should have done such and such. My point is,
in the real world it doesn’t work neatly like that. Choices are
muddled. Everything is so clear to people outside the problem, yet
not to you until later. You read about someone and wonder why the
hell did she do that?”

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