Chapter 17
Marilyn gazed hazily as she walked slowly down the deserted street clutching her purse tightly against her straining body. The night was warm and a faint breeze ruffled her coiffure. She looked up and smiled at the blue sky. Men lounging in warehouse doors stared openly at her and she stared back undaunted. She walked on shutting her mind to all speculation about Tina. But why did she have to select such a God-forsaken area as this.
She was eager to meet Tina and get it over with-she felt like a bottled hurricane. She wanted vengeance on Lou more than anything else. Now she would implicate both Tina and Lou. A dog barked from somewhere behind her and on the corner a cat flitted by kissing her legs. She swore silently.
She stood at the corner and looked up at the street sign. The light was poor. She started to cross. She heard a swish-like a bag of garbage being thrown from a window-then a squeak of tires beside her and a door opening. A shuffling noise behind her and she whirled with a shiver. Too late. The scuffle was quick and one-sided as a hand closed on her mouth. Then she was in a car and canvas shades were drawn as it pulled madly down the street. She felt her mouth pressed hard by straining hands and she tried to tear away-to breathe. Then she felt her arms being pinned as she was pushed deep into the seat. She was frozen with terror. She tried to scream through and among the fingers that clamped across her lips-but no sound came. Somebody was pushing her down and she bumped her head. She tried to think it might be a joke-some wild dream-until she recognized Tina's dark, smiling face beside her. By this time the car was skimming furiously along a country road far from town.
Suddenly the hands were removed from her mouth. She felt a shove and she realized she was imprisoned between two girls. Two more were up front in the driver's seat. She turned to stare at Tina's leering expression.
"What's the damn meaning of this, you little tramp?" she demanded.
Tina didn't answer. The quiet stunned her. What sort of a treatment was this? Her mind was finger-painting in slow motion trying to make some sense out of the situation. It was all madness, chaotic, a dream of fantasy, she told herself.
"We want to give you a very special thank you for all the nice things you've been saying about us," a red-haired girl up front said suddenly.
"It's kidnapping," Marilyn shouted, "punishable by death."
Nobody answered. The car sped on. Someone turned the radio on low. Marilyn's eyes flicked and she groaned. The music irritated her. She leaned back and rubbed her eyes. She stared at Tina's face out of the corner of her eye. It was hard, stark, to the point of ferocity. Now she was scared. What did they have in store for her? She remained rigid in her seat as the blood of fear trembled and surged within her.
"I demand to know where you're taking me!" Marilyn blurted suddenly.
"Did you ever see a more nasty bitch than her?" one of the girls up front said, without turning around.
Tina laughed. "Oh, don't worry, we'll make a lady out of her yet." She turned toward Marilyn and leered. "Won't we, Marilyn?" she asked cunningly.
The other girls burst out laughing. They drove along in silence for a while passing what looked like duck farms and Marilyn decided she would settle for a life of farming at that moment. They sped through a town and one of the girls mentioned that she had been there once when she was a kid. Marilyn cringed a little wondering if they would set the world on fire by dousing her with gasoline and shoot her from a rocket. Crazy thoughts. Tragic ideas. She glowed with fear and felt sorry for herself. She wondered if Lou could possibly have known about this adventure. Maybe that was why he didn't want to come. She pushed away the thought. Not him.
Looking out the window she saw they were speeding down the highway parallelling the river that cut across the county. Soon the string of motel and restaurant neons faded and then, only country darkness.
Marilyn's fears compounded. Maybe they would torture her for days and days-winding her up like an eight-day clock to take the pressure. Maybe they were just dirty, lousy fakes and were just taking her for a mad ride to scare the hell out of her. One thing she could have no doubts about. From the manner of their dress they were not going to a museum or a concert. She blinked her eyes and stared ahead with a stark sense of revulsion.
Suddenly the car stopped for a light. She tried to twist free and make a mad dash to freedom. Tina's hands clutched her and pushed her down. "Easy, there Marilyn," she said with a fierce grin, "it's useless-so save your strength for what's coming. Because you're going to need everything you got to stop yourself from turning into a piece of crap."
Now she was frightened beyond doubt. She could feel her eyes roll and her nostrils sag waiting for an incredible explosion that would dump her unmercifully into another world. If only she could drop off into a coma. She heard the boom of surf from the river front as the car went along purring smoothly. They were now traveling through pine forest area. She knew the country. A lot of swamps. The moon sailed majestically over the scene and she wondered if someone there could know the rough spot she was in and radio it down to earth.
At last the car pulled into a side road, slowed down and passed through a gate leading to a deserted farmhouse. The driver parked under a huge tree, shut off the motor and lights and got out. Marilyn felt herself pushed and shoved and in a moment she stood outside. All ideas of flight were drained. She was hooked-cornered. She was shoved up some rickety wooden steps that groaned and creaked and she saw one of the girls take a key and unlock the door. Then she was shoved again into a huge room. Someone had turned on the lights and Marilyn stared around with a gesture of extreme panic stricken shock and fright.
"You...." Tina was motioning toward a door ... "get in there and wait. Don't get any funny ideas because there's no windows. Now beat it."
Then she said it deliberately, her eyes pleading.
"Please, girls, there's a terrible mistake, J beg of you," she cried eloquently. "Don't let yourself in for trouble-let me go and I promise not to say anything. I promise."
One of the girls snickered. "We're not afraid of trouble, are we girls? We're so delighted we have the trouble-maker here," she said.
Then Marilyn knew. It was like pleading with God when you're dead for another chance ... and a second death. She staggered toward the door like a blinded eel. She turned for pity toward the girls-staring in mute expectancy and when she counted the cold, gleaming eyes she opened the door and went inside.
The light was on. She shuddered at the sight of mounds of crawling cockroaches on the worn-out rug. A huge bed was set in the middle of the room. The linens were mere colored burlap shaded a deep rust and the pillows-there were three, and she wondered why-were caseless. A small lamp was lit on a table near the headboard. There were no chairs ... no dressing table. Then she glanced up. Above the bed a rectangular slit had been carved in the ceiling and a glass, transparent as ordinary window glass, had been installed. She could see beyond the glass where the roof mast merged toward the top pitch. A monumental fear clutched her. Was she to be pinned here as if she were a winged specimen under a microscope? For how long and under what circumstances?
She looked for a bathroom. There was none. Then things began to happen in quick succession. The door opened and the girls walked in-huge smiles on their faces.
Tina was the spokesman. "Get undressed, Marilyn, all the way." When Marilyn stared at them Tina took a step toward her. "I mean right now," she sneered.
"What's going to happen to me?" she cried.
She started moving back but Tina caught her by the waist and held her at arm's length. "If you're worried that we'll kill you, Marilyn-don 't-we're not murderers. But when we're finished with you it is altogether possible you may wish you were dead."
Marilyn looked at the girls and knew it was futile to protest. She picked up her dress and raised it over her shapely legs-over her thighs. She raised the slip and twisted it over her head. Then she stood-in only her garters, panties and bra.
The girls laughed. "Not a bad piece for the studs to work on," the red-haired girl said.
She reached behind her back and unsnapped the bra. Now she didn't care. It fell at her feet. She pulled the elastic band of her panties and she faced them totally nude. Then the word stud hit her hard-like a thunderclap. She knew the word in relation to animals-but humans, never. She frowned and stared at the jubilant girls looking her over.
Tina whispered something in the blonde's ear and the girl said as she left the room, "I'll tell them she's ready."
Another girl said, "Let's go upstairs and get ourselves ready to start watching the show."
Marilyn wished for sleep to dream a lifetime. She licked her lips. They were dry. She must not lose herself-not now-she said to herself. It was her damn nude body-stripped and revealing ... Yes, it was her body that was doing her thinking.
Then the girls left and shut the door. She walked around the room. She couldn't think of laying herself upon the filthy bed. The light was poor. It baffled her eyes. She heard a stumble-then creaking floorboards and the knob began to turn. Now her breath was urgent and she backed away a little. There was another creak as the door was pushed wide-and she took one look and shuddered. She tried to catch her breath but it was too much as she slithered in a faint to the floor.
The two huge nude negro giants seemed to flood the room as they entered and silently raised Marilyn's nude body from the floor and heaved it roughly on the bed. Then they stared at the stilled figure for a moment. In unison they pounded their chest twice and shouted loudly, "AGAKADI-AGAKADI."
But Marilyn did not hear.