Part 2 (2/2)
”With a spotted scarf over his face?”
”He took it off.” Lisa turned away. ”He kept smiling.”
It figured. The girl in khaki pants had said a security guard felt her up. The lobby guard was sure there were no other security people in the building. ”He was no security guard,” Jeannie said. She had seen him jogging away just a few minutes ago. A wave of rage swept over her at the thought that he had done this dreadful thing right here, on the campus, in the gymnasium building, where they all felt safe to take off their clothes and shower. It made her hands shake, and she wanted to chase after him and strangle him.
She heard loud noises: men shouting, heavy footsteps, and the rush of water. The firemen were operating their hoses.
”Listen, we're in danger here,” she said urgently. ”We have to get out of this building.”
Lisa's voice was a dull monotone. ”I don't have any clothes.”
We could die in here! ”Don't worry about clothes, everyone's half-naked out there.” Jeannie scanned the room hastily and saw Lisa's red lace bra.s.siere and panties in a dusty heap beneath a tank. She picked them up. ”Put your underwear on. It's dirty, but it's better than nothing.” ”Don't worry about clothes, everyone's half-naked out there.” Jeannie scanned the room hastily and saw Lisa's red lace bra.s.siere and panties in a dusty heap beneath a tank. She picked them up. ”Put your underwear on. It's dirty, but it's better than nothing.”
Lisa remained sitting on the floor, staring vacantly.
Jeannie fought down a feeling of panic. What could she do if Lisa refused to move? She could probably lift Lisa, but could she carry her up that ladder? She raised her voice. ”Come on, get up!” Taking Lisa's hands, she pulled her to her feet.
At last Lisa met her eyes. ”Jeannie, it was horrible,” she said.
Jeannie put her arms around Lisa's shoulders and hugged her hard. ”I'm sorry, Lisa, I'm so sorry,” she said.
The smoke was becoming more dense, despite the heavy door. Fear replaced pity in her heart. ”We have to get out of here-the place is burning down. For G.o.d's sake put these on!”
At last Lisa began to move. She pulled up her panties and fastened her bra. Jeannie took her hand and led her to the ladder on the wall, then made her go up first. As Jeannie followed, the door crashed open and a fireman entered in a cloud of smoke. Water swirled around his boots. He looked startled to see them. ”We're all right, we're getting out this way,” Jeannie yelled to him. Then she went up the ladder after Lisa.
A moment later they were outside in the fresh air.
Jeannie felt weak with relief: she had got Lisa out of the fire. But now Lisa needed help. Jeannie put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the front of the building. There were fire trucks and police cruisers parked every which way across the road. Most of the women in the crowd had now found something with which to cover their nakedness, and Lisa was conspicuous in her red underwear. ”Does anyone have a spare pair of pants, or anything at all?” Jeannie begged as they made their way through the crowd. People had given away all their spare clothing. Jeannie would have given Lisa her own sweats.h.i.+rt, but she had no bra on underneath.
Finally a tall black man took off his b.u.t.ton-down and gave it to Lisa. ”I'll want it back, it's a Ralph Lauren,” he said. ”Mitch.e.l.l Waterfield, math department.”
”I'll remember,” Jeannie said gratefully.
Lisa put the s.h.i.+rt on. She was short, and it reached to her knees.
Jeannie felt she was getting the nightmare under control. She steered Lisa to the emergency vehicles. Three cops stood leaning against a cruiser, doing nothing. Jeannie spoke to the oldest of the three, a fat white man with a gray mustache. ”This woman's name is Lisa Hoxton. She's been raped.”
She expected them to be electrified by the news that a major crime had been committed, but their reaction was surprisingly casual. They took a few seconds to digest the information, and Jeannie was getting ready to snap at them, when the one with the mustache levered himself off the hood of the car and said: ”Where did this happen?”
”The bas.e.m.e.nt of the burning building, in the pool machine room at the back.”
One of the others, a young black man, said: ”Those firemen will be hosing away the evidence right now, Sarge.”
”You're right,” the older man replied. ”You better get down there, Lenny, and secure the crime scene.” Lenny hurried away. The sergeant turned to Lisa. ”Do you know the man who did this, Ms. Hoxton?” he said.
Lisa shook her head.
Jeannie said: ”He's a tall white man wearing a red baseball cap with the word 'Security' on the front. I saw him in the women's locker room soon after the fire broke out, and I think I saw him running away just before I found Lisa.”
The cop reached into the car and pulled out a radio microphone. He spoke into it for a while then hung it up again. ”If he's dumb enough to keep the hat on we may catch him,” he said. He spoke to the third cop. ”McHenty, take the victim to the hospital.”
McHenty was a young white man with gla.s.ses. He said to Lisa: ”You want to sit in the front or the back?”
Lisa said nothing but looked apprehensive.
Jeannie helped her out. ”Sit in the front. You don't want to look like a suspect.”
A terrified look crossed Lisa's face, and she spoke at last. ”Aren't you coming with me?”
”I will if you like,” Jeannie said rea.s.suringly. ”Or I could swing by my apartment and pick up some clothes for you, and meet you at the hospital.”
Lisa looked at McHenty worriedly.
Jeannie said: ”You'll be all right now, Lisa.”
McHenty held open the door of the cruiser and Lisa got in.
”Which hospital?” Jeannie asked him.
”Santa Teresa.” He got in the car.
”I'll be there in a few minutes,” Jeannie called through the gla.s.s as the car sped away.
She jogged to the faculty parking lot, already regretting that she had not gone with Lisa. Her expression as she left had been frightened and wretched. Of course she needed clean clothes, but maybe she had a more urgent need for another woman to stay with her and hold her hand and rea.s.sure her. Probably the last thing she wanted was to be left alone with a macho man with a gun. As she jumped into her car Jeannie felt she had screwed up. ”Jesus, what a day,” she said as she tore out of the parking lot.
She lived not far from the campus. Her apartment was the upper story of a small row house. Jeannie double-parked and ran inside.
She washed her hands and face hurriedly, then threw on some clean clothes. She thought for a moment about which of her clothes would fit Lisa's short, rounded figure. She pulled out an oversize polo s.h.i.+rt and a pair of sweat pants with an elastic waistband. Underwear was more difficult. She found a baggy pair of man's boxer shorts that might do, but none of her bras would fit. Lisa would have to go without. She added deck shoes, stuffed everything into a duffel, and ran out again.
As she drove to the hospital her mood changed. Since the fire broke out she had been focused on what she had to do: now she began to feel enraged. Lisa was a happy, garrulous woman, but the shock and horror of what had happened had turned her into a zombie, frightened to get into a police car on her own.
Driving along a shopping street, Jeannie started to look for the guy in the red cap, imagining that if she saw him she would swing the car up on the sidewalk and run him down. But in fact she would not recognize him. He must have taken off the bandanna and probably the hat too. What else had he been wearing? It shocked her to realize she could hardly remember. Some kind of T-s.h.i.+rt, she thought, with blue jeans or maybe shorts. Anyway, he might have changed his clothes by now, as she had.
In fact, it could be any tall white man on the street: that pizza delivery boy in the red coat; the bald guy walking to church with his wife, hymnbooks under their arms; the handsome bearded man carrying a guitar case; even the cop talking to a b.u.m outside the liquor store. There was nothing Jeannie could do with her rage, and she gripped the steering wheel tighter until her knuckles turned white.
Santa Teresa was a big suburban hospital near the northern city limits. Jeannie left her car in the parking lot and found the emergency room. Lisa was already in bed, wearing a hospital gown and staring into s.p.a.ce. A TV set with the sound off was showing the Emmy Awards ceremony: hundreds of Hollywood celebrities in evening dress drinking champagne and congratulating one another. McHenty sat beside the bed with his notebook on his knee.
Jeannie put down the duffel. ”Here are your clothes. What's happening?”
Lisa remained expressionless and silent. She was still in shock, Jeannie figured. She was suppressing her feelings, fighting to stay in control. But at some point she had to show her rage. There would be an explosion sooner or later.
McHenty said: ”I have to take down the basic details of the case, miss-would you excuse us for a few more minutes?”
”Oh, sure,” Jeannie said apologetically. Then she caught a look from Lisa and hesitated. A few minutes ago she had been cursing herself for leaving Lisa alone with a man. Now she was about to do it again. ”On the other hand,” she said, ”maybe Lisa would prefer me to stay.” Her instinct was confirmed when Lisa gave a barely perceptible nod. Jeannie sat on the bed and took Lisa's hand.
McHenty looked irritated but he did not argue. ”I was asking Miss Hoxton about how she tried to resist the a.s.sault,” he said. ”Did you scream, Lisa?”
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