Seven: Dressed to Tremble
* * *
For reasons that eluded her, Jill found herself carefully selecting her clothes for her dinner at the Camdens. No bare shoulders, she thought. He'll just touch them. But I don't want to look like I'm out handing out copies of The Watchtower, so the conservative blouse and skirt are out.
And red, avoid red. I definitely don't want to dance with Ruthie's sister.
Underwear, of course, presented another problem: Jill had no chastity belt, and so settled for her thickest grannypanties under her most opaque pair of pantyhose, and the dress she selected ran down well below her knees. No makeup, and no jewelry, in case these people were the type attracted to shiny things.
Her preparation complete, Jill appraised herself in the full length mirror that hung on the bathroom door of her apartment.
Dammit. She was still pretty. Did Moe's wife next door have a spare Burkha?
Moe was just getting in as Jill opened her door and stepped outside. His daughter Jill was with him, and Jill smiled at them.
"Good afternoon, Jill," Moe said.
"Good afternoon."
Jill liked Moe and his family. They were quiet neighbors, certainly an improvement over the Crawford fraternity boys who had lived next door at her old place. And it was fun sometimes to have another Jill around; Jill helped the girl with her homework sometimes and in the building they had become known as Jill Sr. and Jill Jr.
"Going out for the evening?" Moe asked.
Jill nodded. She fought off the urge to fall to her knees before Moe and Jill Jr. and beg them to ask her to baby-sit or something.
"Dinner," she said.
Moe nodded and smiled. "Well, you look very nice," he said.
Inwardly, Jill groaned. She thought again about asking about a burkha, but then she remembered that the Duprees were moderate Muslims and so of course would try and hide their Islamic identity rather than celebrate it, at least here in Glenoak, where Muslims were in such constant need of rescuing. Jill had heard from Jill Jr. how the kids at her old school had taunted her.
"But it's worse in my new school," Jill Jr. had told her. "There's another Muslim girl named Yasmine, and they spend so much time pointing out that she's a moderate Muslim and talking about how all the Christians need to protect her because she's helpless that now she's the biggest target in school. Nobody leaves her alone and they won't let her just be a student. It's bad enough with the bigots, but those pushy charity types? Eeeew!"
Jill had nodded. Now she thanked Moe for the compliment and stepped down the stairs and out to her car.
Maybe if I get into an accident, she thought.
No, the way things are going, it would be Ben and his cop brother who are first on the scene.
#
It was hard to miss the Camden house, what with that background guitar music and halo over it and all, but Jill still checked the address twice to make sure it was the right place. She parked her car across the street and locked it carefully.
It was then that she saw the boy watching her.
A chill went down her spine, and she thought briefly about jumping back in her car and driving away. He was just a teenager, with dark hair, and he was poorly hidden behind a couple of garbage cans by the driveway of the house. And he was, definitely, watching her.
She looked away. Don't make eye contact, just don't.
Hurriedly Jill made her way across the street. She was glad that she had chosen to wear flats instead of heels, since the instinct to run was never far away.
She rang the doorbell, and saw behind her that the strange boy had crossed the street and was now lurking behind some bushes in the Camdens' front yard.
Oh, God, please. Someone answer.
After a moment the door opened and she was face to face with a middle-aged man.
"Hello," he said. "I'm Eric Camden. I'm a Minister. You've probably heard of me."
"I'm Jill," Jill said.
The man smiled. "Well, come into our parlor," said the Minister to the girl. He stepped aside to admit her, and Jill stepped inside.
Out of the corner of her eye Jill saw as the strange stalking boy slipped into the house after her. Eric appeared not to notice.
* * *
For reasons that eluded her, Jill found herself carefully selecting her clothes for her dinner at the Camdens. No bare shoulders, she thought. He'll just touch them. But I don't want to look like I'm out handing out copies of The Watchtower, so the conservative blouse and skirt are out.
And red, avoid red. I definitely don't want to dance with Ruthie's sister.
Underwear, of course, presented another problem: Jill had no chastity belt, and so settled for her thickest grannypanties under her most opaque pair of pantyhose, and the dress she selected ran down well below her knees. No makeup, and no jewelry, in case these people were the type attracted to shiny things.
Her preparation complete, Jill appraised herself in the full length mirror that hung on the bathroom door of her apartment.
Dammit. She was still pretty. Did Moe's wife next door have a spare Burkha?
Moe was just getting in as Jill opened her door and stepped outside. His daughter Jill was with him, and Jill smiled at them.
"Good afternoon, Jill," Moe said.
"Good afternoon."
Jill liked Moe and his family. They were quiet neighbors, certainly an improvement over the Crawford fraternity boys who had lived next door at her old place. And it was fun sometimes to have another Jill around; Jill helped the girl with her homework sometimes and in the building they had become known as Jill Sr. and Jill Jr.
"Going out for the evening?" Moe asked.
Jill nodded. She fought off the urge to fall to her knees before Moe and Jill Jr. and beg them to ask her to baby-sit or something.
"Dinner," she said.
Moe nodded and smiled. "Well, you look very nice," he said.
Inwardly, Jill groaned. She thought again about asking about a burkha, but then she remembered that the Duprees were moderate Muslims and so of course would try and hide their Islamic identity rather than celebrate it, at least here in Glenoak, where Muslims were in such constant need of rescuing. Jill had heard from Jill Jr. how the kids at her old school had taunted her.
"But it's worse in my new school," Jill Jr. had told her. "There's another Muslim girl named Yasmine, and they spend so much time pointing out that she's a moderate Muslim and talking about how all the Christians need to protect her because she's helpless that now she's the biggest target in school. Nobody leaves her alone and they won't let her just be a student. It's bad enough with the bigots, but those pushy charity types? Eeeew!"
Jill had nodded. Now she thanked Moe for the compliment and stepped down the stairs and out to her car.
Maybe if I get into an accident, she thought.
No, the way things are going, it would be Ben and his cop brother who are first on the scene.
#
It was hard to miss the Camden house, what with that background guitar music and halo over it and all, but Jill still checked the address twice to make sure it was the right place. She parked her car across the street and locked it carefully.
It was then that she saw the boy watching her.
A chill went down her spine, and she thought briefly about jumping back in her car and driving away. He was just a teenager, with dark hair, and he was poorly hidden behind a couple of garbage cans by the driveway of the house. And he was, definitely, watching her.
She looked away. Don't make eye contact, just don't.
Hurriedly Jill made her way across the street. She was glad that she had chosen to wear flats instead of heels, since the instinct to run was never far away.
She rang the doorbell, and saw behind her that the strange boy had crossed the street and was now lurking behind some bushes in the Camdens' front yard.
Oh, God, please. Someone answer.
After a moment the door opened and she was face to face with a middle-aged man.
"Hello," he said. "I'm Eric Camden. I'm a Minister. You've probably heard of me."
"I'm Jill," Jill said.
The man smiled. "Well, come into our parlor," said the Minister to the girl. He stepped aside to admit her, and Jill stepped inside.
Out of the corner of her eye Jill saw as the strange stalking boy slipped into the house after her. Eric appeared not to notice.
