CHAPTER 11
SUMMARY – Sam and Mercedes are excited about getting married but an obstacle arises; Cooper interrogates Karofsky
RATING – Mature. Sexual intercourse; cursing; violence; emotional trauma
NOTES:Thanks for your reviews! As always please excuse any errors! And thank you for reading my story!
WEDDING BELLS
The next morning while Sam and Abby made breakfast downstairs, Mercedes called Tina from the upstairs bedroom. Before her friend could say hello, she said:
"Sam and I are getting married!"
"Oh my God, are you serious, really? When?"
"Today."
"Mercedes, I'm so happy for you! Sam is a good guy and you deserve to be happy, but why the rush?"
"It just feels right, you know?" Mercedes said as she lay back against the mountain of pillows on the bed, "No use waiting when we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together."
"I get it. But when you come home, me and Mike are going to throw you two a big party."
"Thanks, Tina, I love you."
"I love you too, and now I'm crying."
"Oh, Tina."
"You've been through so much Mercedes, but you put on a brave front, and you think people can't see it, but I see it, and I'm glad you found someone. And this is completely random, but when you have kids, you better make me the godmother or I'm kicking your ass."
Mercedes laughed because she knew Tina was serious.
"Alright, you have my word." She decided not to tell Tina about Sam's fertility issues just yet; there were so many children in the world that needed homes, that she was excited about adoption, even though, it still made her a little sad that she and Sam couldn't have a baby of their own.
"Is Abby ok with this?"
"Yeah, she and Sam have a great relationship and he loves her so much. She's coming with us to the Justice of the Peace."
"That's so sweet… why did you have to make me cry before going to work?"
"Sorry, girl, but if it means anything, I'm crying too," Mercedes said as the tears ran down her cheeks, "I'm so blessed."
"You are and I couldn't be happier for you. I love you and call me later to give me details."
"I love you too, Tina. See you."
After she ended the call, she briefly considered calling Aunt Josephine but chose not to because didn't want to hear any negativity; this was a crazy thing to do, and there was a possibility that it could be a mistake, but deep in her heart, she knew that Sam was the man for her and she wanted to build a life with him. Then she heard Sam calling for her.
"Schätzchen, breakfast is ready!"
Mercedes tied the belt on her robe and went downstairs. The aroma of bacon and eggs filled her nostrils as she walked into the kitchen. Sam was pouring everyone a glass of orange juice, and Abby was setting a platter of scrambled eggs on the table next to a big bowl of cheesy grits. His blue Avatar pajamas were splattered with biscuit batter, and Abby had flour in her Afro puffs and on her pink nightgown.
"Go on and sit down, Sugar Plum," Sam said to Abby, "I'll get the bacon and biscuits," he then looked over at Mercedes, who stood in the doorway, smiling at them, "Good morning, baby, you look beautiful."
"That's because I'm happy," She said, walking over to him and giving him a hug and kiss, "You look handsome too."
"Even with bedhead?"
"Yes, she said, kissing him again, and ruffling his shiny blond hair. She was about to sit down when Sam pulled her in for another kiss, "Not so fast, I need a little something more to get me through." Mercedes acquiesced to his need, and enjoyed the kiss, before Sam reluctantly broke away and pulled out her chair for her. After she was seated, he put the rest of the food on the table and then they joined hands and Sam said grace.
"Lord, thank you for this meal and for bringing this family together. Amen."
"Amen," Mercedes said, squeezing his hand and Abby nodded in agreement.
As Sam began fixing their plates, Mercedes asked him about vows.
"Do you think we have time to write any?"
"I'm not exactly a poet," Sam said handing Abby her plate, "I don't mind saying the traditional stuff."
"It doesn't have to be Shakespeare," Mercedes said taking a bite of her eggs, "Just say what's in your heart."
Sam was quiet for a moment then he said:
"Well as long as you're not expecting a Hallmark card, I think I can swing that."
"Thanks, sweetie."
He patted her hand and they finished breakfast in a peaceful silence. After the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the kitchen was cleaned up, she and Abby went upstairs to get themselves ready while Sam went downtown to pick up her ring from the bank and buy a suit. Mercedes had no idea what the ring looked like and she was anxious to see it. She already loved it because Sam deemed her worthy to wear the family heirloom. Sam said the ring was quite old and when he told her the story behind it, she fell in love with the Hummels all over again.
Much earlier that morning as they watched the sunrise, Sam said to her:
"You want to hear why that ring is so special?
Mercedes turned to look at him; his green eyes glowed in the golden morning light.
"Sure."
"When the Hummels came to America, they started a bakery in Brooklyn, it was called Hummel Pastry Shoppe and the business thrived and soon they were able to open up a chain."
"How big of a chain?"
"About 6 bakeries. That's nothing to sneeze at. And they had, like; rich people come and buy their bread and treats. Grandpa Hummel said that the governor loved my great-grandmother's strudel."
"Wow."
"Yeah, they were a big deal for a time. Anyway, when the stock market crashed in '29 and the Depression happened; they lost everything."
"That's awful."
"It was tragic to go from riches to rags. All the bakeries closed down, and they got kicked out of their home. My great-grandmother, her name was Ida, wanted to sell her wedding ring, but my great-grandfather, Hans, wouldn't hear of it. You see he spent 7 years saving to buy that ring for her because he knew she was worth it. Anyway, he took any job he could get, so she wouldn't sell the ring, but that wasn't enough and on top of that she was pregnant with my grandfather. While he was at work one day, robbers came to their apartment, tied up Ida and took what few valuables they had including her wedding ring. When Hans came home and found out, he was relieved that Ida was not hurt but he was heartbroken, because that ring was only meant for Ida's finger. The police were no help. They had more important things to worry about other than a stolen ring. Be glad they didn't take advantage of your beautiful wife, they said."
Mercedes touched Sam's face, tracing her fingers against his jawline.
"That's sad."
"It was and then my grandfather was born. Hans tried in vain to find the ring and buy it back. He went to every pawnshop and jewelry store, showing them a sketch of the ring. Finally, in a jewelry store in the seediest part of Brooklyn, he showed the storeowner the sketch and the man said a traveling salesman bought the ring and he didn't know where his next destination would be, but Hans vowed not to give up. He wrote down the description that the storeowner gave him of what the man looked like."
"What did he look like?" Mercedes asked, laying her head on Sam's chest, as he played with her hair.
"A tall, red-headed man with a beard and he smoked a pipe."
"Interesting."
"With no prospects in sight, they moved to Tennessee because some distant relatives had settled there and were doing pretty good and they settled down in Dusk Hollow; they eventually got back on their feet and opened up another bakery. In the meantime, Ida had two more sons but they died young. As the bakery prospered, Hans was able to buy her a ring that was even more beautiful than the first one, but he still wanted the old one back and so did she, though she never admitted this to him out loud; but he knew Ida's heart, and it wasn't settled. Kind of like how I am with you," Sam said, slipping his hand beneath her robe and placing it on her chest, "Schätzchen, I know when you hide your pain because I know your heart, and it's damn beautiful."
Mercedes eyes filled with tears and she kissed him.
"What happened next?"
"What Hans did was place ads in every newspaper in the country. He would go to the library and find out the names of the major newspapers in each state and place ads that had a sketch of the ring, the date of the sale and a description of the man who bought it. He placed these ads every year for over 20 years. My grandfather said that he thought it would stop after he left home and got married, but his father pressed on."
"That's determination."
"You bet. Every so often, he got a few false leads, but then one day, Hans got a letter from a middle-aged woman named Clara Skilley-Wilkins, she saw his ad in the Sacramento Star and said that her grandfather, Boone Skilley was the man who bought that ring and he left it to her in his will, and she wanted to give it to him."
"So she sent it to him?"
"No, she came to Tennessee because she wanted to meet Hans and Ida in person."
"Why?"
"So she could tell them her story. A letter wasn't enough. As it turns out, Boone bought the ring for his fiancé, but it always spooked her. It fit her finger but she said wearing it made her feel sad; she couldn't explain it, but every time she looked at that ring, nothing but sorrow filled her heart; Boone thought she was crazy but he bought her another ring and saved my great-grandmother's ring and left it to Clara in his will. When she tried to wear it, she felt the same sadness, and it never suited her hand, but she kept it because she was close to her grandfather and he wanted her to have it. When Clara met Hans and Ida in Dusk Hollow, she said she now understood why her grandmother could never wear it; it was because it wasn't meant for her finger and sadness haunted it; but now she was happy to give it back to its rightful owner. And as Clara handed Ida the ring, she said: 'This ring has been crying for you. I'm glad it can finally stop.' And Ida wore it until she died."
"That's a lovely story. But what if I feel that sadness too? Hans said it was only meant for Ida's finger."
"Hans believed the spell was broken once Ida died. Neither he nor she had power over it anymore because it was returned to them and they were happy to have it again. That's why he left it in the family's possession. But nobody in the family wants anything to do with the ring; it freaks them out."
"Really?"
"Yeah, the Hummels are superstitious."
"Oh."
"But I don't care, because I feel about you the way Hans felt about Ida, their love was so strong; I just know that it's meant for your finger."
Mercedes sat up and put her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her chest.
"Sam, just when I thought I couldn't love you anymore, you go and prove me wrong."
Mercedes smiled and looked down at her hands, imagining what the ring looked like. Then she felt sad and thought of Shane; how he knelt before her in the rain, asking for her hand in marriage. She picked up her purse from off of the nightstand and unzipped it. At the bottom of the leather bag, was a green satin ring box, she took it out and opened it, and stared at the diamond ring inside. She stopped wearing it after she and Sam grew closer, but now she wanted to hold it, slip it on her finger. She held her hand up to the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, letting the diamond sparkle on her hand one last time.
"Shane," she said, "Thank you for loving me, giving me Abby, and creating a home that filled my heart with joy. You loved and adored Abby and she carries you in her heart like I do. Today, I'm getting married again. Sam is a wonderful man and a lot like you. He loves me and Abby and we love him. I'm just letting you know that I won't forget you and neither will Abby. We love you Shane."
As the sunlight shined on her ring, she felt Shane in the room with her, he was beside her on the bed, and his burly arms embraced her, she knew that familiar, secure feeling his touch always brought and she smelled his scent of spearmint licorice and coffee, both senses dredged up memories that were once painful but now gave her an odd, melancholy bliss, joy and sadness, mixed together, like looking at home movies and remembering those who've passed on.
"Shane."
She turned around and wrapped her arms around him, pressing against his chest; and it felt good to hold him, just hold him one more time, and then she heard his voice:
"Let go, Mercedes."
Tears flowed from her eyes. For so long, she couldn't let go; waking up every morning alone, an empty space beside her where Shane was supposed to be, and the nightmare began every day with a silent daughter and an uncertainty of where their lives were headed. Sam could see that nightmare in her eyes, but he loved her anyway. Slowly, she released Shane, and his arms loosened from around her.
"Good-bye Diamond. I love you."
When she heard his special nickname for her, she began sobbing. He always said she was brighter than a diamond every time she smiled. It was their thing. She was his diamond and he never let her forget it.
"Good-bye, Shane, I love you."
Then he was gone.
ooo
Abby sat on the window seat in the guest bedroom, examining the frost crystals on the window with a magnifying glass. Cooper gave her the magnifying glass, instructing her to see the world "close up." Each crystal had its own unique pattern. She liked patterns, the repetition, and the safety of knowing how things should work. And to Abby, houses were the same way, the designs were like patterns, something to follow and create as you wished. She loved the crystals. They were delicate, sharp pictures with long, graceful lines, like clear, frozen tree branches; others resembled wildflowers from another planet. She tried to think of the long word that Cooper taught her that meant clear. When she couldn't remember it, she put down the magnifying glass and picked up her pink notebook and flipped through it until she found a note he wrote to her:
Transparent means clear.
Abby liked it when things were clear. It was clear that Sam and her mother loved each other and that they loved her. It was clear that being a family was a good thing. But it wasn't clear how her voice stayed trapped inside her, and she was afraid to let it out. Something stole her voice. Why wasn't that clear?
She missed her father. That much was clear. She could wrap herself in that pain and see it as plain as the crystals beneath the magnifying glass, and on this wedding day, she missed him even more. When he was alive, she loved looking at her parents' wedding pictures all the time, they both wore green Bubba's Chapel of Bliss t-shirts and her mother had roses in her hair; they were married by a funny-looking man with a fake tan and a black wig wearing an Elvis costume; they went all the way to Las Vegas to get married; that sounded fun to Abby like going to Disney world, and much more exciting than a boring old church.
Her father was a big, handsome man, and sometimes his size scared people, but how could anyone be scared of her Daddy? He was gentle and soft like her stuffed bunny rabbit collection that lined the walls of her old bedroom in Lima. Even his anger was never harsh. He would only speak in a stern voice:
"Abby Tinsley, you know better than that."
When he said her first and last name that always meant business, and every day she longed to hear his voice and laughter. Oh, that pain was in her chest again. Why couldn't she make it stop? Why was the pain greater today? She shut her eyes, blocking out the sun, craving darkness, this is how she slipped under, and pushed the world away.
"Your mother and I are getting married," Sam said.
She loved Sam. He was kind and gentle like her Daddy and he loved to see her smile and make her happy. So why was she hurting?
She didn't know. It wasn't clear. She knew that when you build a house you have to have a solid foundation. Her house with Sam and her mother was almost done, what was missing, she thought the floor was solid, it felt solid, then why did she feel like she was sinking in mud?
"It's ok to love Sam," her mother said.
She knew it was ok. She lay on the bed, keeping her eyes closed. She heard her mother singing in the shower across the hall. Cry, she told herself, go ahead and cry.
"Daddy, I want a Slurpee."
"Let's go home first and get the other set of tools. I got another job in 45 minutes."
"It's not that far. We're close." She rolled down the window and stuck out her arm to feel the warm wind on her skin. It was a sunny day and the air smelled like barbeque because of a nearby beef pit that sold grilled sandwiches and pig's feet.
"I don't know if we have time – "
"It's not far and, you can get spearmint licorice."
Her father laughed and pulled up to the 7-11. When they got out of the truck, he took her hand and they strolled into the store. She couldn't remember much after that, she remembered filling up her Slurpee cup with bright red slush and the jingle of the bell above the door when that boy walked in.
That boy.
Her father tried to talk to him.
"Listen, son, I can help you."
"Shut the fuck up!"
She ran to the front of the store and saw that boy, pale and wild-eyed, pointing a gun at her father's chest.
"Daddy!"
Five times. Five shots. And her father fell to the ground.
Rewind.
"Daddy, let's go home to get your tools."
"Ok, sweetie, I got another job in 45 minutes."
Daddy doesn't die.
"Daddy, it's a nice day. Let's go to the park."
"Alright. We got some time. I got another job in 45 minutes."
Daddy doesn't die.
"Daddy don't go to work today."
"Why?"
"Me and mommy want you to stay home."
"Baby girl, I have a lot of worked lined up and – "
"Stay home, Daddy."
"If it means that much to you."
Daddy doesn't die.
If she knew a better pattern, a clear design for a blue print, she wouldn't have asked for a stupid Slurpee.
She killed her father. So she had to kill her voice.
Now it was clear.
She cried. She cried harder than she ever had. The tears were hot and blinding and she curled herself into a ball.
I'm sorry, Daddy.
Her voice remained trapped inside her. She was a bad, horrible girl. How could she do what she did? She couldn't stop shaking and crying. Suddenly, someone was holding her.
"Sugar plum, open your eyes."
It was Sam. Sam was holding her to his heart and she could feel it beating.
"You have to breathe, can you breathe with me? Listen to my voice."
Sam's voice. Abby heard it. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
"That's a good girl. In, out, yes, sweetie just like that."
Abby could breathe. She clung to Sam. Her mother rubbed circles on her back.
"Abby, were you dreaming?"
She shook her head. Then her mother and Sam tucked her into the bed and lay down on either side of her. Sam hugged her right side and her mother hugged her left side. Sam said a prayer.
"Lord please help Abby with her pain. She's got so much pain and only you can guide her through it. We pray you can help her heal from what's hurting her. Amen."
"Amen," her mother whispered, kissing her forehead.
"Keep breathing," Sam said.
So Abby breathed as they held her, feeling their love, and drifted off to sleep.
A PROPER PROPOSAL
It was almost midnight and Sam and Mercedes were curled up together on the couch in front of the fireplace. Abby had a rough day and Sam felt helpless. Now she was upstairs sleeping peacefully, holding a magnifying glass that Cooper gave her, a gesture that Sam found bizarre but kept those thoughts to himself. Mercedes suggested calling Santana.
"Her notes don't make sense. Maybe she can help."
"We'll call her in the morning," Sam said, kissing her temple, "I'm worried about her."
"Me too."
"I'm sorry for rushing the wedding. I feel like it brought on her panic attack," Sam said.
Mercedes looked up at him
"Baby, it's not your fault. We're still getting married. I think it's something else. Abby loves you."
"Whatever I can do, I will, I want to see her get better, I love her so much, and when she's in pain, I am too."
Mercedes kissed him.
"I know, honey, I feel the same way. Thank you for praying today. That helped a lot."
"No need for thanks. I've been discovering my faith again and it's helping me, so I turned to it today."
"Aunt Josephine wasn't a big church goer, but I remember her praying now and then, it's a powerful thing."
Sam hugged Mercedes and kissed her. Then they fell silent, and enjoyed the quiet stillness and the crackling fire. The outside lights at the back of the house were on and shined on the snow as it fell from the bright orange night sky, the weatherman predicted six inches by sunrise. Then Mercedes said:
"Sam, I'm glad we're getting married. I really do want us to be a family."
"Stay right here, I'll be back."
"Where are you going?"
"I have something for you."
He went to the hall closet and got his coat, reached into the pocket and took out a black ring box, and returned to the living room, with his hand behind his back.
"Close your eyes," he said.
She smiled.
"What are you up to?"
"Just close your eyes."
Mercedes pursed her lips and pretended to be upset by the request, but she obliged and closed her eyes.
Sam got down on one knee.
"Ok, you can open them."
When she opened her eyes, she covered her mouth with her hands.
"Sam!"
"I'm giving you a proper proposal."
"But I look like a wreck."
Sam thought Mercedes had lost her mind. A silk turquoise scarf was tied on her head and she wore a long red plaid flannel nightgown and thick white socks covered her little feet; beautiful was the only way to describe her. How could she not see that?
"Mercedes, you're beautiful."
"I'm wearing a head-wrap and I smell like cold cream."
"Quit killing the mood."
Mercedes laughed.
"Ok, I'm sorry."
"Besides I'm wearing Avatar pajamas and old slippers."
"True."
Sam cleared his throat.
"Mercedes, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
He opened the box and presented her with Ida's ring. She gazed at the ring and her eyes sparkled.
"Yes, Sam, I will be your wife."
Sam removed the ring from the box and slipped it onto to her finger; it was a perfect fit.
"I told you this ring was meant for your finger."
"It's gorgeous," she said, leaning down and kissing him.
Sam feared she might not like the ring. The primary gemstone wasn't a diamond; it was a cushion cut emerald surrounded by accent diamonds. The band was gold with a decorative scroll engraving.
"My great-grandfather said that an emerald changes color if your lover is unfaithful."
"Is that so?"
"Yes," he said picking up her hand and kissing it.
"Well, then, this ring better stay green, Samuel."
Sam laughed and sat down beside her on the couch, pulling her into his arms.
"You're it for me. I love you too much."
"Same here - and I love you too."
INTIMATE JOURNEY
Much later that night, after the fire died out, they went upstairs and made love. It felt different to Mercedes, it was less urgent and more, fluid, like riding the currents of a stream. They knew each other's bodies so well. Mercedes loved how their intimacy grew over time, first with cuddling and meditating, and just becoming attuned to the spirit of the other. It made her feel safe and she removed the walls she built around herself and she wanted to give this man everything. Sam worshiped her body and Mercedes basked in his ardent lovemaking, and she in turn, highly revered his body as well, from his sculpted six-pack and his firm, muscular buttocks, to his strong, solid thighs and calves, and well-defined biceps. In her eyes, he was as brilliant as a marble statue, and she never grew tired of touching him or giving him as much pleasure as he gave her.
Her favorite part of the day was when Sam stepped out of the shower, dripping wet with water droplets running over each ridge of his chiseled abdominal muscles, or when he awoke and his member was erect, tempting her in the early hours before daybreak. Now after they made love, with her riding him, eyes open wide and staring into his, with no pretense of fantasy because she was living that with him in the present moment, coming down from that was exhilarating and scary, because of the intensity of their bodies moving together and the love shared between them.
Now, he was hard again, and she held his cock in her hands, hot and heavy, stroking it, Sam lay back, breathing hard. Mercedes loved making him feel good, and to make sure she did it right, she watched him masturbate as he had done the same with her; it was such an intimate act revealing themselves to each other like that, and she studied the movement of his calloused hand as he gripped his member, jerking himself to completion, now she imitated his technique, but would stop every so often to kiss his cock gently, Sam loved when she did that, patting her head and moaning, those feather light kisses aroused him; he said it made him feel so loved, because Mercedes' kisses were sweet and tender. Tonight when she took him into her mouth, he cried out in such a way, that she never wanted his bliss to end and she earnestly sucked his shaft until he ejaculated and she swallowed all that he gave her. He lay there shaking on the bed, and she rose up to gaze at him, his body glistened with sweat; his face was flushed, he opened his arms and embraced her.
"Sweet, sweet baby…" he sang in her ear.
"I love you," she said.
Sam continued singing in her ear, he wasn't sure where the song came from, but it always played in his head, whenever he held her like this, naked and fully open; their bodies calming in the afterglow. With his hands, he wiped his seed from her chin and lips, and felt something so precious in that moment, the love and lust she displayed when she swallowed all that he had to give overwhelmed him; he pressed his lips against hers and soon his tongue sought refuge in her pretty mouth and as he held her close, he fondled her breasts and his hands traveled downward and squeezed her belly as he slowly pushed her back onto the bed.
"Spread your legs," he said.
She obliged and spread her plump, curvaceous legs that he loved to see bare or in sheer stockings, wrapped up in a glossy sheen, they were strong legs, but delicate too, and when she walked in high heels, the gracefulness was apparent with each step; the beauty of her full, rounded figure, aroused him like no other woman had. Her vagina was slick and wet, reminding him of juice flowing from over ripe plums, a tart sweetness that he now craved. He wanted to give her so much pleasure, hear her cry out, feel her thighs shake as she gripped the sheets. He buried his face in her open treasure, delving in, giving her all the love that was in him, as he burrowed his tongue inside her, drinking her essence. Give, give, give… all he wanted to do was keep giving her as much joy as she gave to him. He used his fingers and tongue and he stimulated her clitoris, a pearl of nerve endings that took her over the edge every time.
"Sam, baby – "
Her labored breathing and unfinished declarations of love were more than enough encouragement for him. She tasted so good, so sweet…
The shakes and quivers began, and she was crying and shouting, and he kept going until there was nothing left in her, she gave in and came, holding his head between her thighs, but trying to get away at the same time. Sam gave her two more sensual swipes of his tongue along her canal, between her purple petal-like folds, and she came again, the clear fluid streamed out of her, and Sam drank from her until the flow ended, and he placed gentle kisses on her womanhood. Satisfied with seeing his angel lying there limp, shivering and satiated, he removed himself from between her thighs and laid his head upon her belly. Neither spoke for a long time and eventually Sam kissed a trail up her belly, resting on her heaving breasts and sucking her nipples before continuing to her neck and finally ending on her luscious lips that tasted of his seed and her essence mixed together. He covered her soft, warm, plush form with his own hard body and he enjoyed the embrace of her fleshy arms encircling him. But he needed something else. So when she was calm and rested he said:
"I need to see you."
ooo
Mercedes nodded and he rolled off of her. She sat up and faced him cross-legged and he did the same. They gazed at each other; she saw Sam's love for her shining in his eyes; that man was so transparent about his feelings it amazed her; she saw his strength, and imagined him carrying her and Abby through a horrendous storm but making it to the other side where happiness awaited them; Sam was so kind and giving, and every day she spent with him, her feelings for him deepened and intensified and unlocked places inside her that were off limits after Shane's death; his compassion for Abby's suffering and loving her as his own demonstrated what a wonderful human being he was:
I love you. Thank you so much for your loving-kindness and devotion. Thank you for loving Abby as your own flesh and blood.
She focused on his heart and prayed that God kept it beating, and asked him to bless his body and mind with good health; she worried that he took on too much and she wasn't going to let him fall, no, she was his anchor as much as he was hers
I'm here. You can lean on me. I'm here.
She knew his fears, troubles, and shame, and none of those things made him less than a man; it only made him fully human, and what could be more beautiful than that?
You are whole.
Sam began to cry. He heard her unspoken words. Damn it all, only she could do this to him, turn him inside-out. He let the tears run down his cheeks.
I am whole.
His blue angel, his cherished and beloved, was everything to him, and she was even more radiant than the emerald ring that sparkled on her little, brown hand. He was blessed to have her in his life, and when he stared into her dark eyes, nothing he saw fazed him; all the nightmares, pain, guilt, and betrayal… he could never turn away from her. His only desire was to love her and Abby until he was six-feet under and hoping he had done right with this life. His eyes settled on her chest and he watched it rise and fall. Soon they were breathing together. This is what he needed, to stare inside her and breathe every breath with her. He reached for her hands and held them in his own.
Mercedes was resilient and vulnerable - bright smile and crying heart. Closed bathroom door and sobbing in the shower. Terror-filled dreams that left her shaking in his arms; anger that surfaced when anyone she loved was harmed. Quiet shame for her past, seeking love and reassurance from the wrong man. None of it mattered. Sam accepted the reality of tragedy. You simply rebuilt what was broken. And he saw Mercedes' will with every success story she had about one of her students, and her hope when she laughed at little things like he and Abby dancing to Bobby Womack on a chilly Sunday afternoon. So he told her:
I see you. I'm here.
Indeed he did see her.
Every part of you is beautiful.
He saw her uncertainty when she got dressed in the morning and her clothes felt tighter, and he would wrap his arms around her and remind her of her giving spirit, kind heart, and abundant beauty. He let his eyes drift over her perfect voluptuous body; this was the body that he wanted to give his seed to and make love to until he perished. No other woman compared.
Believe it.
Mercedes was crying, her eyes shifting away from him. Sam stopped her.
No, stay with me. I love you.
Yes and I love you
You are whole too. Say it.
I am whole.
Both of them were crying messes. Beautiful, tragic, messes that survived on hope and love. They hugged each other tight, rocking together, sweat and sex, sticking to their skin, tears flowing, hearts mending… and so much love.
THE INTERROGATION
Cooper sat in a diner eating a wilted Caesar salad as he read a Lima Gazette article about the 7-11 robbery and Shane Tinsley's death; after reading it twice, he suddenly had a revelation. He called his assistant, Latonya.
"Hi Cooper," she said, "How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you. I have to go Lima Ohio, could you tell my investigator on-duty to only call me only if it's absolutely urgent?"
"Certainly. Is there any reason why you're avoiding him?"
"He'll have questions. I don't want to answer any questions right now. I'll be back in Bethel Rock late afternoon tomorrow."
"You know he has –"
"Yes, I know he has Karofsky. But I need to go to Lima."
"Ok, please be careful."
"I will, Latonya. Take care."
"Wait."
"Yes?"
"Make sure you take an extra scarf."
Cooper smiled. Latonya had this fear of him catching cold and he found it amusing.
"I will. Now I must be going. Good-bye."
"Bye."
Cooper looked out the window and sighed. The trip to Lima better be worth it.
ooo
Cooper's investigator on-duty was a man named Paul Dill. He was tall and in his late twenties, with sandy-colored hair and movie star good looks reserved for high-school crushes. He had handcuffed Karofsky and kept him locked up in a temporary Anderson Security office in downtown Bethel Rock. Paul couldn't stand Karofsky's arrogance and wanted to take him out back and either shoot him or beat him or both. He couldn't decide. He normally wasn't so short fused, but this Karofsky character unnerved him.
"You assholes think you can get away with this?" Karofsky said. He was sitting in the most uncomfortable chair that Paul could find; it was a hard wooden chair with no cushion and a wobbly leg.
Paul looked up from his laptop; he was sprawled out on a brown leather couch surrounded by surveillance equipment and yellow legal pads filled with notes.
"Just tell us what we need to know."
"I told you my price."
Paul rolled his eyes and continued his report for Cooper. Where was he anyway? He said he would be there in the late afternoon; it was well past 5:00. It also bothered him that he had Latonya give him a message. He was up to something and Paul wanted to know what it was. He hadn't been working for the man very long, but in the short time that he had, he could only describe him as strange, brilliant, and sometimes a bit of a jerk, though Cooper realized none of his talents or shortcomings; he simply saw himself as Cooper and that was that. Paul sighed and stretched his arms. Whatever his boss was doing, it had better be good; he was tired of baby-sitting Karofsky, and wondered if he could give him a sedative to keep him quiet. Then he would have to convince the overgrown ogre to drink something he gave him, and he even though Karofsky was an asshole; he wasn't stupid. Paul stared at his report and hoped that Cooper would get there soon.
ooo
Cooper walked into the office at around 7:00 that evening, and despite the dark circles under his eyes, he looked rather polished in his crisp black suit, royal blue tie, and dark overcoat. He despised being late, but it was unavoidable.
"Hello Paul," he said.
Paul stood up and pointed to Karofsky.
"There he is."
"We know each other," Karofsky said.
"You do?"
"Paul you can leave us alone," Cooper said, ignoring Karofsky.
But Paul wasn't so easily persuaded.
"Are you sure?"
"Very."
Paul asked no more questions and left them alone. Once he was gone, Cooper locked the door. He found a stool in the corner of the small office and sat in front of Karofsky who grinned at him.
"Cooper Anderson, good to see you, buddy."
"Why are you following Mercedes Tinsley?"
"Oh, so no, how are you doing, how's the family, that sort of thing?"
"You don't have a family, I don't care how you're doing, and I don't do that sort of thing. Why are you following Mercedes Tinsley?"
Karofsky shifted in his chair.
"I heard your faggot brother got married. Congratulations."
Cooper punched Karofsky, knocking him onto the floor.
"Shit, why are you – "
Before he could speak again, Cooper rolled Karofsky onto his back and straddled him, grabbing his throat.
"Why are you following Mercedes Tinsley?"
"$500,000.00 dollars is my price."
"Your price is irrelevant."
"It's relevant if you want answers."
Cooper slammed his head into the floor. Karofsky screamed out in pain.
"Why are you being such a dick? She's just some fat bitch with a retarded kid that won't talk."
Cooper punched him twice in the face.
"Answer the question."
"What is she like your charity case?" Karofsky said, wheezing for breath and spitting up blood, "Are you gonna write this shit off on your taxes? You're not exactly a Boy Scout, Cooper; you work both sides of the law. Give me $500,000.00 and I won't say anything about the Hanson job you pulled off and –"
"I did what I had to do."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, your hands are as dirty as mine."
"My hands aren't dirty. You on the other hand are sleeping with Jack Cain's wife and his mistress and you're taking bribes from rival crime lords in exchange for giving up information on him and his business deals. I can easily hand all the evidence over to him if you don't tell me the reason you're terrorizing an innocent woman and her child."
"Tapping a few phones and following her around isn't terrorizing."
"Forget semantics. Why are you following her?"
"So what if I'm taking bribes and banging his chicks? Cain don't care about that."
"You know that's false."
"False?"
"Cain hates betrayal. He trusts you. He may not respect his wife or any woman for that matter, but he expects loyalty."
"This ain't The Godfather."
Cooper placed his hand around Karofsky's throat.
"Maybe not, but I won't have a decent woman and a sweet little girl have their lives turned upside down because of you."
"Show me what you're going to show Cain."
"Do you think this is a bluff?"
"I know it is. Sure one of your guys may have seen or heard something but I'm too good to leave shit behind."
"Paul!" Cooper shouted.
Seconds later Paul tried to open the office door. He jangled the doorknob.
"Locked," he said.
"My apologies," Cooper said, "I'm afraid you'll have to use the spare key in the steel box. And bring the evidence with you."
"Ok."
"Admit it," Karofsky said, "You ain't got shit on me."
"I'll use your words. Just keep telling yourself that."
Paul unlocked the door bringing his laptop with him. By this time, Cooper changed positions and sat on Karofsky's chest, unfazed by the man's constant pleas to get off of him. Paul glanced over at them and smirked. He said to Cooper:
"No water torture?"
"The evidence please."
"I can't breathe motherfucker!" Karofsky shouted.
Paul laughed and sat on the edge of a desk pushed against the wall. He opened his laptop.
"Do you want to see everything?"
"Of course," Cooper said.
Paul pulled up all the video files they had on Karofsky, and played the first one. He knelt down beside Karofsky's head and held up the laptop for him to see.
"I call this one Spank Me Daddy, you're quite talented with the paddle," he said, smiling at Karofsky.
"Fuck you, Paul! My goddamn lung is collapsing," Karofsky wheezed out and looked up at Cooper, "Get the fuck off my chest, you're a heavy motherfucker, but you don't look it, are you wearing weights?"
Cooper ignored him and nodded at Paul:
"Play the video."
"You mean videos. We have over fifty."
"Paul!"
"Ok, sheesh."
He played Spank Me Daddy first. It showed Karofsky spanking a freckled, red-headed woman with long, frizzy hair, who looked about fifty years old and had rose tattoo on her back. She had a slim waist and a huge ass; she was shaped like a centaur. It looked like they were in a black dungeon. Whips and chains hung from the dark walls and Karofsky sat on a black leather bench with the woman sprawled across his lap.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said.
Karofsky slammed a wooden paddle onto her bright red cheeks. Whack!
"I told you not to play with your pussy."
She wriggled around on his lap moaning.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."
"Are you still my bitch?"
"Yes!"
"Then act like it!"
Whack!
"Is this pussy mine?"
"Yes!"
Whack!
He finished the spanking and pushed her off his lap and she landed on the floor, crying out in pain when her reddened ass hit the hardwood floor; he got off the bench, and slapped her butt cheeks, before roughly putting her on all fours and ramming into her from behind, her beach ball ass bouncing as he pounded her.
"Thank you, Daddy!"
"Is my dick bigger than Cain's?"
"Yes!"
"Turn it off!" Karofsky yelled.
"That was with his wife. Play another one," Cooper said.
Paul nodded and said:
"I call this one Deep Throat: The Millennial Edition."
The next video showed a rather thin young girl, around twenty years old, with long bleached blonde hair worn in two pigtails and she had silver braces on her teeth. She wore neon pink panties with the words WHORE written across the bottom in silver sequins, and her big breasts jiggled while sucking Karofsky off in a fancy hotel room with dark purple velvet drapes and bedspread. He was lying back on the bed leaning against the headboard, barking out orders, as she sucked his cock:
"Yeah, just like that, suck it bitch, you know how I like it."
The girl began gagging on his cock.
He pulled one of her pigtails.
"I told you to work on that gag reflex!"
She nodded and worked harder.
"Good girl, I'm gonna, titty fuck you after this."
"Enough!" Karofsky said, looking away from the screen.
"I thought you would like that one," Paul said with mock disappointment.
"That was his mistress," Cooper said.
Karofsky moved around beneath him, attempting to alleviate the pressure of Cooper's weight on his chest.
"I know both bitches, you don't have to tell me."
"So I take it you don't want to hear the audio files of you taking money in exchange for all of Cain's business deals? Or the pictures of you stealing his files? We have it all."
"Fine, you've got your fucking evidence," Karofsky said, trying hard to breathe, "Dude, listen, get off me, I'm getting light-headed."
"Then answer my question."
"It's her in-laws. They want the kid. So they're gathering evidence to make a case against her in court."
"How did they find you?"
"Online."
Cooper rose up and landed hard on his chest. Karofsky began to cry.
"Motherfucker!"
"Tell me the truth. You don't advertise online."
"Ok, ok, I know a guy named Rory Flanagan who lives in Lima, he runs an Irish pub called McGinty's and Carter Tinsley goes there every day after work for a drink. He's friendly with Rory and you know how booze makes your lips loose, so he starts spilling his guts about his retarded granddaughter and – "
Cooper choked him until Karofsky's face was turning an odd shade of blue.
"Do not speak of her like that again. No more insults about her or her mother."
By now, Karofsky's eyes were closing, and he's begging for mercy.
"Will I have to call a cleanup crew?" Paul asked, as he watched them with detached amusement.
"That won't be necessary," Cooper said, removing his hands from around Karofsky's throat. He took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it.
"Continue."
Karofsky coughed and panted for a few minutes and he said:
"Rory told Carter about me. They called and told me what they wanted. I gave them a price. They paid it. I got to work. End of story."
"What kind of information did you give them?"
"Whatever they asked. Like where she was going, who she was with, stuff like that. I told them about her dating that blond dude, Sam. I would've given them more but you assholes stole all my stuff."
"When was the last time you spoke to them?"
"Right before, your twink and his crew ambushed me in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot."
"Do they think Mercedes is still in Tennessee?"
"Probably, but I haven't spoken to them, so they can be thinking anything."
"Why did you come back?"
"I had some stuff to take care of. It wasn't like I was leaving for good."
"Even if you had left for good, we would've found you," Paul said.
Cooper took a few more puffs of his cigar and then jammed the lit end into Karofsky's neck, burning his flesh. Karofsky screamed and cursed and even said a few Hail Mary's. Cooper continued his cigar burn torture on Karofsky's neck until it was completely extinguished, and then he said to Paul:
"I'm done. We can let him go."
"What?"
"Let him go."
"You're a sadistic bastard, you know that?" Karofsky said as Cooper stood up and smoothed out his suit.
"Pardon me for saying so, but you were the one filmed in a dungeon, spanking a middle-aged woman with a paddle and choking another woman with your penis. I would say you were the sadist."
"That's different. Bitches love that shit."
"Why are you letting him go?" Paul asked, completely dumbfounded by the turn of events.
"Cain has all the evidence. I sent it an hour ago."
Paul laughed out loud, slapping Cooper on the back.
"Damn, I had no idea that you – that's great! I thought you were taking a different angle."
Cooper smiled and moved away from Paul's sudden touch. He looked down at Karofsky.
"Cain will find you."
"He'll kill me!"
"Yes and at least we won't need a cleaner," Paul said.
Karofsky was crying.
"I don't get it. Is this all because of that woman and her kid?"
"What about those young girls?" Cooper asked.
Karofsky's face, which was a pummeled mess, scrunched up in confusion.
"Girls?"
"The ones you pimped out. Boys too."
"It wasn't very many. Besides they were almost eighteen."
"Almost isn't legal. You took advantage of them and gave them drugs until they became addicted. You had sex with them. You knew nobody cared about them; faceless runaways from broken homes. The police always looked the other way. Because you were their informant and even the FBI did nothing."
"I did my time."
"Not for the crimes you committed. Ellie was found in a dumpster. You remember her don't you? You picked her up at a homeless shelter?"
"Fuck you man, she was trying to go straight, she was my best hooker, I couldn't have her leaving and – "
"And what about Susan? Her body was found floating in the East River?"
"That wasn't my fault. I didn't know that guy was into choking."
"Yes you did because you watched."
Karofsky remained silent.
"They were young and innocent. You stole that from them. Do you remember Jason Doyle?"
"Who?"
"A homeless teenager. He's short with brown hair and very attractive; he's about sixteen years old and from Lima. You found him rummaging in the dumpsters behind Breadsticks when you were there on business, some type of gambling scheme you had going. You took him to your hotel and raped him and made him start working for you. You got him hooked on drugs. It got so bad that he lost his mind, needing money, and not getting enough johns, he decided to rob a 7-11 on a Saturday afternoon; he was high on crack and shot an innocent man during the robbery."
"I don't remember any Jason or any of that stuff. And I sure as hell don't know anything about a robbery and shooting."
"He went by the name of Jax."
"Jax, that little fucker shot somebody?"
"Not just somebody. It was the Tinsley's' son, Shane."
"Look, I'm not involved with any of that. I knew their son was killed, but I didn't know who did it, or any of the details. They just wanted me to get as much information on Mercedes as I could, so that's what I did. Jax worked for me a few months, and then he got weird so I cut him loose. He must have done that crazy shit after he got on his own. And yeah, we fucked once. I like to experiment."
"You make it sound consensual."
"It was."
"No it wasn't. I spoke to him."
"What in hell for?"
"You've ruined so many young lives. But I could never stop you. You had too much protection."
"Shit doesn't stick to me."
"Until now."
"Fuck you."
Cooper lit another cigar. Karofsky looked scared.
"You're not gonna burn me again are you?"
"Of course not. I would never waste another cigar. Anyway, I decided a year ago to really crack down on gathering intelligence on you. At first it was hard, but then it got easier, because as it turns out, despite your protection, a lot of people despise you."
"Whatever."
"It's just by chance that I got involved with helping Shane's wife. I had no idea that her husband was the same man that Jax shot; until I dug a little deeper after she told me her husband was shot in a robbery at a 7-11 in Lima. I researched the case, and I found a newspaper article, where Jax said that he used to be a prostitute, and he described the man who got him involved in that lifestyle. It sounded just like you, but he never said your name because he was afraid at the time. I spoke to Jax the other day and he's not scared any more. He told me his story and it all came together. He also said he told the police everything you had done, but none of them helped him. Now he's in prison for manslaughter. A child lost her father and a widow grieves every day. That's just the tip of the iceberg of all the damage you've done."
Karofsky coughed up blood.
"Yeah, I'm also responsible for slavery, the Holocaust, and global warming. I didn't pull that fucking trigger, Jax did. I didn't shoot that heroin or smoke that crack, he did, and I didn't offer my virgin asshole to be fucked either, that was all him. So his punk ass is in jail cause of the shit he did to himself."
"You introduced him to that world. Instead of helping him, you controlled him, abused him sexually and mentally, and cast him aside like all your other victims."
"There was no sexual abuse. He wanted it."
"I found your secret stash. It has videos of you raping and torturing Jax and other victims. I gave those to certain FBI agents and police officers that actually care about justice and aren't corrupt like the others."
"Goddamn you!"
"Either Cain will kill you or you'll go to prison. But you know how child sex offenders fare in prison so…"
"Uncuff me!"
Suddenly, someone knocked on the office door. Cooper nodded at Paul and he opened it. A short, pudgy man, with gray, slicked back hair, wearing a long, black leather coat and sunglasses walked into the office. His eyes lit up when he saw Karofsky lying on the floor bleeding and helpless with burn scars on his neck.
"He's all yours, Cain," Cooper said, taking a puff of his cigar, "I'm done."
"Thank you, Cooper," Cain said, shaking his hand.
Cooper slipped on his coat, as he buttoned it up, he said:
"Rory sends his regards and he wants his money back."
"Wait, you knew all along?" Karofsky said, trying to sit up, but Cain kicked him in the stomach.
"You aren't going anywhere."
"Why did you want me to confess?"
"Perhaps I am sadistic, or maybe I just don't like you. It's either/or. Take your pick."
"Son of a bitch!"
"I had other questions, so it wasn't for naught. It was time well-spent. Have a good evening."
Cooper helped Paul gather up the surveillance equipment and they left Karofsky alone with Cain. They wouldn't be using the office anymore and by tomorrow morning no traces of foul play would be evident.
ooo
It was 2:00 in the morning and Cooper and Paul sat in a booth at Denny's eating hash browns, bacon and eggs. Paul was talkative, while Cooper remained pensive, chewing his food thoughtfully and mulling over the evening's events. Paul picked up the ketchup from off of the table and poured it on his eggs.
"I can't believe you knew all along."
Cooper shrugged and stirred his coffee.
"I had a hunch and I had bits and pieces. I found out about the Rory connection from Jax. After I talked to Jax, I went to Rory who was angry with Karofsky over some money, so of course he was willing to talk. I didn't know the exact information given to the Tinsleys or if they knew Mercedes was in hiding."
"Stop rationalizing. You enjoyed beating that bastard and watching him squirm."
"Is that so?"
"You didn't have to do what you did."
"I know."
They ate in silence until Paul said:
"You think Karofsky is dead by now?"
"Definitely. Cain wastes no time."
Paul took a sip of his orange juice.
"Did you really go to the police and FBI?"
"I know people."
Paul stared into Cooper's eyes, tilting his head; and he suddenly realized what happened.
"Damn, Cooper, you gave them both up to the Feds!"
"That I did. I knew Cain would kill Karofsky but the FBI needed evidence on Cain's businesses to take him down and I provided that with the Karofsky tapes and other sources."
"Wouldn't it have been better for Karofsky to go to prison?"
"No, the system is so archaic and inept. I know that the inmates would have beaten him to a pulp or raped him, but even then, somehow, some way, he would be protected. The trials would drag on. Evidence would become fuzzy. Victims wouldn't come forward. This is the only justice that worked."
"I'm never crossing you," Paul said, half-jokingly, his tone uneasy.
Cooper didn't respond. He only looked out the window. It was raining. For some reason, Abby's face popped into his head, he thought about how she would show him her drawings of houses that she planned to build, but her eyes were always sad. Tragedy destroyed people and quite frankly he was tired of seeing it.
"What was the Hanson job?"
"You were listening at the door."
Paul turned red and looked down at his plate.
"Sorry."
"Apology accepted. And that's classified."
"And how did you know – "
"That's also classified."
"You didn't let me finish."
Cooper looked at him.
"You want to know how I knew Karofsky, correct?"
Paul blinked and cleared his throat.
"Uh, yeah."
"It's not relevant," Cooper said and continued staring out the window into the dark, rainy night.
"Ok, just one more question."
Cooper sighed.
"Very well, Paul."
"What happened to your magnifying glass? You took it with you everywhere."
"Somebody needed it more than me."
"Who?"
"Classified."
ooo
Cooper only slept a few hours that night. He tossed and turned in his hotel bed, the faces of Karofsky's victims in his mind, Abby's forlorn smiles, Mercedes' tears… he turned on the TV and watched a documentary about ants in South Africa. Then he wrote in his journal.
I am a man who sees the world for what it is and I can't change it.
As the sun rose, he got a call from his FBI contact.
"We got Cain," he said, "and Karofsky is dead."
"Thank you."
Cooper hung up and called Mercedes and Sam.