Part 11 (1/2)
He could feel his face flush, the pulse pounding in his forehead.
Easy, he thought. Calm down, kiddo.
He took out the wad of gum and rolled it in the dirt until it was completely covered and plugged the hole and then smoothed it over with his hand. Looked good - the same brown color as the door. He stood up and dusted off his a.s.s, grabbed the scoop and drill and raced back to the barn, dropped the drill on its shelf and walked back to the house all laid-back and casual.
His mother was carefully dumping boiling water from the chili-pots into a pair of wash buckets. His father was reading his paper.
”Where you been?” he said.
”I was playing around with the dogs a little.”
His father put the paper down.
”You?” he said.
”Yeah. I do, sometimes.”
His father shrugged, then stood.
”We ready, Belle?”
”We're ready.”
”All right then. Brian, take a bucket. Careful not to spill.”
”Yessir.”
And that was it. He'd gotten over.
FIFTEEN.
Light pours through the musty room, and wind. She is grateful for the breeze and the scent of land and living things. For a moment she is blinded again to all but the dust-motes swirling in front of her. She sees the figure above like a black ghost which gradually resolves itself into the man, her captor, descending the stairs.
She braces herself. For anything.
”How we doin' today?” he says and sets the towels and dish rags and Lava soap down beside the winch.
”Sorry about this. But with you I'm taking no more chances.”
He cranks the winch. One turn, two. He knows this is uncomfortably tight now, can see the pull in the tendons of her arms and thighs. But it's necessary. The woman makes no sound of complaint, not even a grunt. Again he admires her. Tough b.i.t.c.h, this one is.
He gives the winch one more turn.
And she can feel the bolt at her right wrist give give slightly. The man has done damage to his own handiwork. Not enough damage, not yet. But some. Her wrists are oozing blood but when the boy and the woman walk down the stairs to join him he turns his back to her for a moment and she works the wrist as best she can. slightly. The man has done damage to his own handiwork. Not enough damage, not yet. But some. Her wrists are oozing blood but when the boy and the woman walk down the stairs to join him he turns his back to her for a moment and she works the wrist as best she can.
Belle and Brian set the buckets of steaming hot water down on the cellar floor.
”The scooper, Brian.”
”Right. Forgot.”
The kid takes the stairs two at a time. He knows his son's enjoying this. Let him. His son's practically a man.
He unwraps the bar of soap, folds it into a dish rag and dips it into the water. d.a.m.n! that s.h.i.+t's hot that s.h.i.+t's hot! It practically burns his fingers. He works it into a lather experimentally as Brian bolts back down the stairs with the scooper. Thinks, this'll work just fine.
”Gonna scrub her down, pop? I never seen anybody - smelled smelled anybody - that nasty before! Jeez!” anybody - that nasty before! Jeez!”
His son is grinning.
”Your mother and I are. But first you need to clean up her mess.”
”Me?”
”Yes, Brian. You.”
The grin's disappeared now. Cleek doesn't blame the boy. It's not a job anybody'd want. She's missed the Tupperware bowl entirely with her s.h.i.+t, though most of her p.i.s.s is in there.
”Use the scooper and one of these rags here. We'll just have to clean up after her until we get her...”
”Potty trained?”
The grin is back again. His son is nothing if not resilient.
”Exactly.”
Brian sets to. And it's not lost on him that the boy is concentrating on those long firm legs as much as he is on the job he's doing. Brian points to what's left of the food and the food bowl.
”This too?”
”Yeah. Let her think on eating for a while.”
When he's done he just stands there, scooper in hand.
”Okay, now get.”
”But I can help you...”
He gives his son a look. It's a look that's always stopped him dead in his tracks and today is no exception. Fun is fun but he's not about to let his boy wash down a full-grown woman. Brian sighs and trudges up the stairs.
”And close the door behind you.”