Authors: Mercedes Keyes
"So what is it gonna be
? You with me or not ... we don't have
long to decide, time is of the essence." Anthony encouraged.
"I don't know Anthony, I never - you know, I don't think I
could." Timothy declined doubtfully.
"Well here's your chance. It's about time anyway, don't be such a whimpering fop!" Anthony pushed.
"Yeah Timothy, come on, Rory's going, tell him, Rory." Randy added his own pressure to persuade the reluctant youth. Rory looked over his peers, leaning back against the bridge rail, his arms crossed over his chest, his coat slung over an arm. All four stood over the pond outside Lady Primrose's school property. Anthony leaned back
copying Rory's pose, with Timothy next to Randy. Timothy leaned
over the bridge rail looking into the water wondering why he
continued to associate and indulge in un-favorable behavior that was
sure to ignite his father's anger. Considering the long talk and punishment he had received from his father back when he went to
the docks the first time with Rory. If it had not been for the man
who sent them home in his carriage, it would have been a lot worse.
Yet, there he was again, instead of going straight home, as he should,
he was being nudged by Randy, who was saying repeatedly.
"Come on Timothy, come on, it'll be fun, one of those days you
won't forget."
Well, he could certainly believe that. The time for him to be home
had already passed.
"Where is it exactly we're supposed to be going?" He asked
apprehensively.
"Yes, where exactly I'm curious to know?" Rory added, already bored.
"Where Anthony, Gregory and I, always go when we find ourselves randy for a
little pinky, you coming or not?"
Timothy blushed blood red while Rory bent over in laughter,
"Pinky! What in hell, is pinky?" He asked in between the mirth.
"You know, that’s the color of it, between a girls legs." Randy explained.
"You call it pinky?" Rory asked incredulously.
"Well certainly, why not?!" Randy
defended what made perfect sense to him.
"Listen, we can stand here talking about what it's called, or we can
go and get it, decide afterwards what to call it. We wait much longer and it'll be too late. What's it going to be?" Anthony inserted.
"First tell me where we're going?" Rory demanded.
"It's a secret; you'll see when we get there. You with us or not?
Unless you're scared that is, still a virgin Rory?" Anthony taunted.
"Let's go!" Rory stood from the bridge, quick to defend himself
against any dare.
"I don't think I'm going." Timothy swallowed, worried.
"Yeah, you're going alright. Let no one like him throw that in your
face. Let's go!"
Timothy hung back reluctantly and scared. "I don't know, Rory."
Rory turned back to him, "Who's the oldest here, you or me? You're
fifteen years old, bleeding hell! There's more to life than eating,
sleeping and playing with your dog." Timothy let a sigh roll as he once
again let Rory lead him off on an adventure he was certain he would come to later regret.
All four piled into Anthony's waiting carriage, with his own
personally appointed driver, keeper, bodyguard and companion,
Abram; a black haired, brawny Irish brute. As soon as they were
settled, Anthony ordered proudly,
"You know where, let's go."
Abram expelled a disapproving breath, "Sir Anthony, I don'
think yer faither will be approvin’ of-..."
"Abram, as I've told you many times...you are not paid to think,
but to chauffer me where I instruct. Now let us get moving
before it is too late."
Abram turned around without another word, although the
shaking of his head was enough to say he did not approve. Very little
could be done at the moment on his part, because what Anthony,
wanted — Anthony received and he dare not inform his father of his bad habits, otherwise — he would later manipulate him and he, Abram,
would be the one punished; even to the extent of losing his job and
wages, that he could not afford.
Rory sat watching the passing scenery as they went through town
and then into the country — traveling further still. A large lake came
into view and they went on past it, traveling another few
minutes until Abram came to a slightly wooded area, where he pulled
up to a large oak and parked off the road there.
Randy and Anthony both rubbed hands excited, leaping out to
lead the way. "Come on, hurry up before it's too late, I bet they're
almost out." Anthony informed them as they all headed off into a
thick crop of trees.
"Where the hell are you leading us?" Rory finally asked, feeling a
bit of discomfort, his stomach sending off instinctive messages that
this might not be good.
"Don't worry, we're almost there." Randy chortled.
Timothy was lagging behind with a feeling of dread coming over
him. The boys ran down a worn path in the grass, between tall
shadowy trees, and finally to an area with heavy bushes in their path.
Anthony and Randy turned grinning, waiting for Rory and Timothy
to reach where they stood.
"What now? What's this?" Rory asked again, growing tired of the
game. Anthony parted the bushes and whispered. "Look through
here." Rory stuck his head close to the opening to look through, with
only a few leaves and small twigs blocking his clear view. What he saw
was a white church/school house. Confused he drew back and stated
blandly. "It's a school house, why are we here?!"
"You still don't get it do you?" Anthony asked, letting go of the
shrubs and shaking his head. "You just wait a minute and you'll see
what."
Rory and Timothy stared into each other's eyes. Timothy's said to
him,
"Let's get out of here."
Rory stood staring, and once more turned back to
Randy and Anthony, both had leering grins on their
faces. "Oh I can't wait, I can't wait. I get to pick this time Anthony,
you picked last time."
"Pick? Pick what? This is no whore's house." Rory blurted, feeling his nerves riding on the very edge, triggering his anger.
"Well, that kind of depends on the way you look at it." Anthony
snickered. "What do you say, Randy?"
"Looks like a whore house to me." He piped in just as the bell
was clanged; Randy jumped to attention and parted his section of the
bush. "Oh boy, here they come." He whispered. Rory's heart and
stomach were both doing flips as he turned to look at Timothy,
whose expression was both angry and frightened, being forced to come
along to what he knew was about to take place. Rory swallowed and
for the first time ever, he felt ashamed of himself before Timothy. The question was how to get out of it and stop it before it was too
late.
"Well Rory, look through and pick one." Anthony invited.
"I'm picking this time I said!" Randy defended what he felt was
his right.
"Would you shush before someone hears you! It's his first time,
let him."
"No! He can pick next time, it’s my turn, but he can look all he
wants."
Rory, with a sick feeling in his gut bent into the opening they’d made to look. Until he could figure a way out of this while saving
face, he had to play along.
The students were now
happily pouring out
because their day of learning was at an end. Many were very
young, running off straight away to join their parents with homework in hand
.
Negro boys and girls alike, heading in all
directions, making Anthony and Randy shift back away from the bush
so as not to be seen,
"Hell Rory, there's a few here lighter than you." Anthony whispered.
"Randy, there's two with red hair and freckles just like yours...think
maybe your father's been to this side of town." He continued
whispering and holding his mouth so as not to laugh out. Randy
guffawed, biting into his lip, "Where'd you think I heard it from."
His eyes watered fighting his laughter. Rory turned to Timothy, he
was boiling in anger. Rory had to fight back his resentment, gritting his teeth not to belt them both in the gut; his mind spinning crazily
with so many thoughts.
'So this is what they meant! Oh God, get me out of this. Get her...whoever
they chose, out of this.'
Suddenly Randy blurted, "There, that's the one! Boy ain't she
something what you think Anthony?"
"Nice, you got good taste, nice and dark."
"Daddy says the dark ones are always the best, get'em light,
might as well be white."
"That makes sense. Dark it is." Anthony agreed. "And today must be our lucky day, she's being held back by the teacher, by the time he
gets through talking to her, the others'll be far gone, no worry of
getting caught." He flexed his brows.
As they jabbered on quietly beside him, Rory knelt to get a look at
their chosen victim. One thing he did agree on, she was something,
and then anger took root again,
'God! She's a little girl!'
He silently
groaned.
She was so little, he could not imagine what they planned, to do to her. He felt a tug at his sleeve, turning
to see Timothy eyeing him hotly. He wanted to leave.
Rory slowly shook his head. Looking back at the little girl, he
knew now, there was no way he was leaving them to do what they
wanted to her. He would never be able to look at himself in the
mirror again...nor his mother in the eyes. Staring at her, he felt a slight smile, she was pretty as could be and as dark as he had ever
seen a person. She looked like maybe eight or nine, with jet-black - almost blue, wavy hair gleaming in the sun. Never had he seen hair
so black and glossy.
She wore a light blue, bell like dress with a ribbon
tied at the back; light blue ankle socks in high top black shoes.
Whatever the teacher had been saying to her, it was over; he bade her farewell and mind her way home. She nodded, smiling and turned
away as he went to re-enter the schoolhouse. The little girl skipped
down the steps, walking away from the building and was heading
straight toward them to Rory's utter panic, giving all a clear view of
her young and shiny, fresh features. Rory found himself staring
blankly, something about her was captivating and sweet. His heart
pounded to think of what might have happened to her, if he had not
come along. She stopped below a tree in the cleared yard, talking up at singing birds. She put down her strap bound books and opened a
cloth bundle; inside were the remains of her lunch, she took the bread
breaking it up and dropping it in scattered pieces for the birds.
Stepping away, she giggled as they bravely swooped down to pick
up a crumb here and there. Rory noticed her eyes were wide in awe
and appreciation for the birds. She had eyes like large almonds,
fringed with thick long sooty lashes and soft, wing shaped brows. Her
nose was just about flat and small, the ridge between her eyes almost
non-existent. Her mouth was small, but her lips were full, cupid bow
shaped with a delicately rounded chin beneath. The hairline
surrounding her small forehead fringed with feathery tufts lying softly against her skin. Rory realized her features were very much like the
Orientals and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Finally, she picked up her books and headed straight into the trap a
waiting her.
"Oh my, she's heading straight for us!" Randy sputtered
excitedly.
Before Rory could react, she walked past the bush where
Randy was ready and waiting. In a blink, he reached out and
snatched her through, his hands covering her mouth to keep her from screaming. Quickly, with her in hand, he and Anthony took off with her away from the school as she kicked and cried out, struggling to
break free. Rory and Timothy both shocked at the speed that they had
acted, rushed to follow. All Rory could see was the pure terror in her
eyes. The look on her face did something to Rory that he would never
forget, making him wonder what kind of person he was becoming to
be in the midst of something so evil.
Because of her petite size, she was no match for Anthony and
Randy, who were both strong and of taller stature.