35
“Fuckin’ A!” said Tony as she threw the duffel bag onto the bed closet to the door. “A real honest-to-God bed!”
The teacher and Baby Doll stood by the dresser that held the television, waiting for Tony to tell them what to do. The teacher’s silence since the car went into the lake yesterday was wearing thin. Very thin.
“I get this bed,” said Tony. “You two get that one. The Lord works in mysterious ways, don’t He?”
Tony had never slept in a motel before, and took it all in with a quick pivot about on her foot. Two double beds, made up with blue and gold spreads. Over the beds, a set of scenes showing fishermen hauling a catch up by nets in the setting sun; Mobile, Blessing had explained as they’d approached the city limits, was located on a harbor on the Gulf of Mexico. It sounded so foreign, the Gulf of Mexico. Maybe there were close to Mexico. Texas was close to Mexico, too.
Tony decided she was going to go see the Gulf before they left Mobile. She had never been to the beach, and those pictures made the Gulf look a lot like the ocean.
Between the two beds, a small table with a single drawer and a lamp with a tilted lampshade. Next to the television set was a dresser with a large mirror above it. On the dresser, a small refrigerator. “Man,” said Tony. “I could live here.” On the far side opposite the door, a small area with another mirror, a sink, and a rack for hanging clothes. Off that, what was likely the toilet, and even a shower, she bet. The heater was on full-force, and already Tony was sweating.
Baby Doll sat on the end of the second bed and stared at the television set. The teacher sat down near the headboard and looked at the telephone.
“Oh, no, no,” said Tony. She reached down and ripped the phone from the wall. “Absolutely, positutely not.” She put the phone under one of the pillows on her bed, then took the pistol from her coat pocket and threw the coat on the chair near the window. Heavy, blue flowered drapes covered the window. That was excellent. They would stay drawn. Nobody needed to see out. And sure as hell nobody needed to see in.
Bobby “Blessing” Sanford had been the sugar daddy for this room at the Mobile South Motor Inn. They’d driven through the night, across the state of Georgia, then down through Alabama, reaching Mobile by mid-day. Blessing had stopped the rig for a late dinner, breakfast, and lunch, inviting the “family” to join him at the various diners. Tony had declined, saying they would eat from their knapsack because they were saving their money for the revival. There would be a love offering taken; they didn’t want to face the Lord empty-handed. This worked. Blessing paid for all the meals. Tony and Baby Doll had eaten fairly well. The teacher, still silent, ate very little. When Blessing was outside the cab before their last leg to Mobile, kicking off some dog poop he’d stepped in at the truck stop, Tony had peeked into his glove box and found an envelope with a small stack of bills. She’d taken most but left some so he wouldn’t notice right away.
When they reached Mobile – the biggest city Tony had ever seen – Blessing apologized again for only going so far, and offered to pay for their night at the Days Inn. It was nearing eight p.m. Tony didn’t argue. She told the man he’d done unto the least of those, just like Jesus had commanded, and Blessing said he’d continue to pray that they made it to Texas safely.
Tony propped up a pillow and lay back against it, the pistol by her side. She tried to pick up the remote control from the bedside table but it was glued down. That was queer. Guess people stole stuff from motel rooms. She punched the power button. The screen flickered to life. It was a menu channel, showing what HBO movies could be rented, and what local channels were available.
Baby Doll pulled her feet up to the bed, and grabbed her toes with her fingers. The teacher folded her hands in her in her lap and looked at the floor.
Tony flipped through the channels. Maybe there would be some news with word about a murder and robbery in Pippins, Virginia. She made full circuit, back around to the menu channel and then up again. No news. Baby Doll watched with rapt attention. It even looked as though she was smiling.
“Hey,” said Tony, stopping the channel on 5, on which a commercial for a local store - Otto’s Hardware - was bragging about their 50% off all bathroom fixtures sale to an exaggerated melody played by bugles and saxophones. “You like T.V. don’t you?”
The kid didn’t say anything.
“Hey!” said Tony. “I asked you a question. You big on T.V.? You like it?”
Baby Doll nodded.
“Yeah? What you like to watch?”
She said something, but Tony couldn’t hear it over the hardware commercial. She punched the mute button on the remote. “What did you say?”
“Princess Silverlace,” said Baby Doll.
“What’s that? A show?”
The kid nodded.
“What channel’s it on?”
The kid didn’t seem to know, or wasn’t sure what the question was. Tony stared at the child and wondered what was going on in that bizarre little mind. She pressed the channel change. Black and white show, a street scene with a kid in a striped shirt, a bike, and a fat, drunk man.
The kid said, quietly, “Andy Griffith.”
“Yeah?” Tony looked at the set. The drunk guy and the kid went into the sheriff’s office and were greeted by the gangly deputy. Tony pressed the channel change. Stacks of people atop each other.
The kid said, “Hollywood Squares.”
“Yep,” said Tony. “That’s what that is.” Channel change. Some police thing. The kid said, “Law and Order.” Change. The kid said, “Seinfeld.” Change. “Sponge Bob Square Pants.”
Tony rubbed her neck, then her head. She scratched. “Is there any show you don’t know?”
The kid didn’t say anything. She was gazing at Sponge Bob with something akin to adoration.
Tony left it on the cartoon. She patted the pillow where she’d put the phone. She had not had the chance to call Leroy; there was never a time when they’d been with Blessing that she’d been able to secure the teacher and kid so she could go off alone. But now there were towels and cords and pillow cases at her disposal.
First things, first, however.
“You stink bad,” Tony said to the teacher. The teacher looked at her without raising her head. “That’s what I hate about women, well, one thing. They stink all the time. God isn’t Father, like Blessing says. God’s a woman, you know that? And a real Bitch at that. If God was a man he wouldn’t have fucked the world up so bad. What you think about that?”
The teacher mouthed something that looked like, “I don’t know.”
“Know why women have higher voices than men do? God made them that way so they’ll sound like children to men, so men will want to protect them. Makes me want to puke!”
The teacher looked away from Tony, back to the floor. She didn’t seem afraid anymore, she seemed spaced. Maybe water in her lungs had fucked up her mind. Tony kicked the woman’s shin with her hiking boot. The woman flinched, but she didn’t make a sound.
“Truth or dare,” said Tony. She’d get the teacher out of this daze if she had to beat the shit out of her.
The teacher shrugged then whispered, “Truth. What the hell.”
“Ha!” shouted Tony. “You said hell, a teacher said hell! They’re gonna fire your ass for saying hell, if I tell ‘em! But they’ll fire you for takin’ that kid home without permission to give her some clothes, won’t they? Too bad, too bad. Okay, truth. You like it when your husband fucks you? You like having someone on top of you, poking you hard and you can’t move or anything? You like that?”
The teacher’s shoulders lifted and dropped once. A shrug.
“That a yes? I bet it’s a yes. Gross. Okay, maybe you like somebody taking over your body and doing what they want with it. But, truth again. What is it like, having a baby? What’s it feel like, getting your cunt ripped open by some ugly, wailin’ little brat?”
The teacher looked from the floor to Tony. It was as if she had to drag her eyes with her head as she moved it. She said, “I remember joy seeing my son. The pain is forgotten.”
Tony’s brows drew tight. “How many kids you have?”
“One.”
“Just one? A son?”
The teacher nodded, up-down-up, like someone had her head on a string.
Tony felt a click in the back of her throat. Incredulous, she said, “You lied to me? You lied to me.”
The teacher’s eyes darkened a fraction, as if she had a vague realization that she’d done wrong. Oh, had she ever.
“No,” said the teacher. “Did I?”
Tony snatched up the gun and jumped to her feet. She slammed the butt of the gun against the teacher’s ear. The teacher wailed and rolled backward, drawing her legs up and covering her head with her hands. “You lied to me! You said you had a daughter and you were taking Baby Doll to give her some clothes!”
The teacher groaned. “No.”
“You never lie to me. People don’t lie to me! They don’t lie to me!” She hit the teacher’s arms with the gun, pound, pound, pound, and it felt good. She said, “Get up and go into the bathroom or I’ll shoot you apart, I’ll shoot you to pieces, starting with your feet all the way up to your head.”
The woman groaned again and rolled over and up. She stumbled toward the bathroom. “Leave me alone. Please.”
“Bull shit, there ain’t. You lied to me!”
“I was scared, I….” Her words trailed, muddling into incoherent murmurs. Tony pushed the teacher into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. “I’m gonna tie you up. Keep you where I don’t have to look at you, bitch.”
“I…won’t lie anymore. All right?”
“Get in the tub.” She slid the shower curtain back as far as it would go. It was a happy shower curtain, covered with smiling fish and crabs and seahorses. Tony slammed the woman in the chest, knocking her back over the edge of the tub. She landed on her ass with a grunt, arms up in protective stance, head bouncing against the far wall’s tile. She remained without moving, stunned or terrified or both. Back in the bedroom, there was canned laughter on the television set. The girl had probably not moved an inch.
There was a tidy row of bleached, white towels, hand towels, and wash clothes draped on a bar over the toilet. Tony removed the largest towel, bit down on the edge with all the strength in her jaw, and tore the towel down the center. It made two decent-sized strips.
“Get your clothes off,” said Tony. “Stinkin’ liar!”
The teacher had found the bump on her head, and was trying to rub it. “What?”
“Now.”
The teacher shook her head.
“You haven’t taken a shower in days,” said Tony. “Don’t fuck with me. Get ‘em off.”
The woman began to breathe funny, heavy, loud, like she was having a heart attack or asthma attack or a blood clot in the brain. But she worked her fingers into the backs of her shoes and worked them off, and then the socks. She grappled for the side of the tub to stand up but couldn’t seem to do it. She remained seated to pull off the sweatshirt and then the jeans. She sat, knees up against her chest, in her bra and panties. The breathing noises, raspy and loud, ran a blade up Tony’s spine.
“Underwear, too.”
The teacher fumbled with the back of her bra and worked the hooks apart. It fell to the slick tub floor. The woman’s breasts were large, with dark nipples and stretch marks. A mother’s breasts, thought Tony. Deformed from milk and nursing, Tony thought. The teacher slid her panties down, and shook them free of her ankles. Her chest heaved. The eyes had closed.
“Get up.”
The teacher fumbled with the edge of the tub and got her feet under her. She stood, then leaned on the rear wall, eyelashes fluttering.
“Mobile South Motor Inn oughta have lots of nice warm shower water,” said Tony. “Hands up to the curtain rod.”
The teacher shook her head, her eyes still closed.
Tony grabbed one arm and yanked it upward. The teacher’s other arm followed as if with a mind of its own. With one of the towel strips, Tony secured the woman’s wrists together and knotted them to the rod.
“Ever see the movie Scarface?” asked Tony as she stood back to admire her work. “Mam’s boyfriend rented it one time. There was this guy. He was a friend of Al Pacino. He went to a drug deal in some motel room, but the drug deal went bad. This drug dealer with a gun tied Pacino’s friend up in the bathtub with his hands on the curtain rod. You see that?”
The teacher shook her head. Her breath wheezed and whistled.
“You lying again? Everybody seen Scarface.”
“I didn’t see it.” A noisy gasp. “I don’t…care for Al Pacino.”
“Everybody likes Al Pacino! He’s the man. What’s wrong with you? Well, anyway, this guy gets tied up in the bathtub and know what they do? They cut off his arms with a chain saw! Cool, huh? Pacino doesn’t know what’s happening, he’s down on the street waiting. But the motel room gets turned into this fucking butcher shop!”
The teacher’s eyes opened and stayed open. She looked at her bound wrists and began to struggle, began to kick and twist. The rod creaked but didn’t pull loose. It was threaded into the wall and screwed in place. Mobile South Motor Inn had done a nice job choosing and installing the bathroom fixtures. Must have gotten them at Otto’s Hardware. “I don’t have a chain saw,” said Tony. “God, you’re stupid.”
The teacher didn’t stop twisting. She sounded like the goddamned Elephant Man the way she wheezed. I am not an animal, I am a teacher!
Tony turned on the shower and adjusted the nozzle so it struck the teacher in the head. The water was cold. She turned the knob until it was warm. “That’s not bad,” she said, nodding to herself. “That oughta rinse you off. Get rid of some of that stink. I’m going out for something. When I get back, I’ll let you down. Then we’re gonna talk about Baby Doll. About the real reason you had her hiding in the car, why she rubs herself all the time. I bet you know. I know you know. And you ain’t gonna lie no more.” Snatching up the second strip, Tony worked it roughly into the woman’s mouth, forcing it through teeth and over tongue, and tied it at the back. The woman gagged, and the whistling breath came now through her nose, fast, irregular. “What, I’m supposed to believe you’d stand there all quiet?”
Tony took the gun into the bedroom. The kid was on her side now, her arm beneath her head, watching as a cartoon kitchen sponge explained to a starfish why they should have a Fall Fish Festival. Her legs were locked around each other like a braid of red licorice. One shoe had fallen to the carpeted floor.
“Hey,” Tony said to the little girl. “I’m going out. I gotta tie you up.”
The girl didn’t sit up. She just held her hands out in Tony’s direction without taking her eyes from the screen. Disgusted, Tony dumped a pillow from the case and secured the kid’s hands together in front. A second pillow case bound her ankles. “Those pillow cases aren’t too bad, kinda soft, I guess.” Tony watched as the girl lay back down on her side and relaxed into her story.
“I’ll be back. Who said that? What movie?”
The girl looked at Tony and then back at the T.V.
“It was Arnold Schwarzenegger.”
The girl seemed to smile, but Tony knew it was at the sponge cartoon.